Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic: Episode I - Fringes of the War
by ColigulaCaesar
Summary: A novelization of KOTOR with tweaks to give it a more narrative plot, stronger characters, and more action. Trapped on the city-planet of Taris and surrounded by enemies, a Republic soldier, Gaius Starr and his Captain search search for their commanding officer, the Jedi Knight Bastila Shan. Gaius is slowly pulled into a fight for the fate of Republic and the entire galaxy.
1. Prologue

**Obligatory Disclaimer**

The characters and setting of this work are based on the Star Wars universe and the games Knights of the Old Republic and Knights of the Old Republic II, which I obviously do not own. The rights to any characters, settings, proper nouns, etc. that I did not come up with belong to Disney, LucasArts, Bioware, Obsidian, George Lucas, or some mix thereof.

 **Forward**

This work of fanfiction is based on the Star Wars game Knights of the Old Republic. While the events are not exact (Trask won't be teaching the reader how the menu works), the general beats will be the same. I noticed a lot of other KOTOR novelizations stuck too close to the source material or strayed too far from it (for my preferences, of course) or just aren't finished and haven't been updated in years. So, I'm hoping to find a balance between those two. As a major element of the game was decisions, I won't be giving away the spoilers here or in the description (such as LS/DS, romance, plot, etc). For all you know, this is a Zaalbar x Vrook story (it's not and please don't write one). I hope you enjoy.

Rated T for violence, mild language (nothing beyond "damn"), and adult themes (nothing explicit).

 **Prologue**

 _c. 4000 Years Before the Battle of Yavin IV and the Destruction of the Death Star_

The pod shook as it latched onto the _Winged Victory_ , a metal speck on Revan's flagship. The panel to the right of the its inner door turned green, indicating the boarding craft had made a complete seal with the ship's hull.

Bastila Shan breathed deeply, calming her nerves. If they'd sensed her unease, the three Jedi Masters behind her did not show it. She was, by far, the youngest of the four Jedi on this mission, and the only one who was not a Master. But she knew this was her place. Bastila had said as much convincing Master J'aal to include her on this mission. He'd obviously agreed. And now, there was neither time nor need for nerves.

The occupants of the boarding pod said nothing for several long moments before Master Joreen Baniss broke the silence. "We're attached," she spoke into her communicator. Several more silent seconds passed before a response crackled through.

"Strike 2 is in position." The deep voice of Captain Greshen echoed through the interior of the craft. "We have to move now, General. Strike 1 is already engaged."

"Very well," Master Baniss gave Bastila a nod. The young Jedi pushed the inner door's release, exposing the pod's airlock. Slipping out of her seat, Bastila stepped through the airlock and pressed her ear against the small section of the _Victory's_ hull to which their pod was sealed. She could not hear through the metal, but reached out through the Force. The passage was empty. It had to be empty; surprise was their best weapon now.

Bastila ignited the front half of her lightsaber and stabbed it into the ship's hull. Working quickly, she cut a hole large enough for even Master Varn, to fit through. It was he, once Bastila had completed her task, who stretched out one of his four brown arms towards the metal plating. On its own, as if it was pushed by the wind, the metal piece slid forward, before turning mid-air and quietly setting itself on the ground. Squeezing past her, Varn still had to suck in his stomach to fit through the hole. Master Neth J'aal followed. The pale-green skinned Duros fit through far more easily. The two humans were the last to disembark. Master Baniss waited for Bastila before exiting herself.

Bastila turned off her lightsaber as she stepped out from the pod. Even now, her earliest teachings still followed her. _Keep your lightsaber off if you don't need it._ It was simple safety instruction taught to younglings, though it had been framed as a lesson on how Jedi never initiates violence, their weapon was for defense. What was left of Bastila's nerves faded as she watched they yellow beam recede into its hilt.

The four Jedi found themselves in a large, empty passageway on the flagship's port side. Surprisingly large viewports lined the hall, giving them a full view of the battle raging outside. The battle that had allowed them to slip, unnoticed, onto the _Winged Victory_. The dim lighting brightened as they entered, making Bastila wonder if the lights were responding to their presence or if they had triggered an alarm.

"This way," said Master J'aal, pointing down the passage, not giving Bastila time to further ponder the thought. Both directions appeared identical to Bastila, but she trusted J'aal's knowledge of the ship. It was his plan. _Remove Revan, and win the war._ It made sense. Most of the Sith's forces were defectors, having flocked to follow the hero who'd led the Republic to victory during the Mandalorian Wars. Eliminate Revan, and the Sith forces would have no one to rally around.

The passage led them halfway to the bridge before ending in a plain, steel wall. Following Master J'aal, the Jedi turned through a doorway leading toward the ship's interior. The passage was narrow and windowless. Dark, metal walls and dim lights along the corners created a chilling atmosphere. Lining the hall, they passed open doors revealing only empty rooms.

Pausing, Bastila peered into one of the rooms. It was a soldiers' bunk, not much different from the bunks on Republic ships. Four beds, a poster on the wall, and several sets of plainclothes thrown haphazardly around the room. The signs of soldiers rushing to put on their uniforms, hurrying to respond to an alarm.

The empty rooms were a good sign. The ship's soldiers were no doubt occupied with the battle outside, as well as the Republic soldiers inside. The Republic strike team in the hanger should have drawn many of the guards that otherwise would've been posted here. Hopefully, the Jedi and the second team of soldiers would be able to slip quietly to the bridge without sounding an alarm. Running into Sith soldiers was acceptable, so long as the bridge wasn't alerted to their presence. For now, the plan was working.

Unfortunately, there were still guards. Though J'aal led the way, it was Master Varn who used his weapon first. A hapless soldier had jumped out of a room after seeing the lead Jedi pass by the doorway, oblivious to the three others behind him. He'd only fired one shot when the blue beam from Varn's lightsaber flew in front of him, deflecting the bolt into the soldier's chest. It was then that Bastila heard footsteps in front of them, and she activated both ends of her own lightsaber.

Soldiers rushed around the corner at the end of the hall, no doubt alerted by the sound of blaster fire. In seconds, the hallway was aglow with red bolts bursting towards the four Jedi, only to be sent flying in every direction by their own blue, green, and yellow blades. Cutting their way to the end of the hall, the Jedi struck down the soldiers that hadn't already been hit by their own deflected blasts.

The four Jedi stood still at the end of the hallway among the dead Sith. Master J'aal bowed his head in brief prayer. Master Baniss retrieved her comlink. "Greshen, we've encountered troops still in the area," she said into the small device, "Continue to the bridge, we'll meet you there shortly." Bastila didn't hear the Captain's reply. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw more soldiers running through the door at the end of the hall, where the Jedi had come through.

Bastila whipped her lightsaber in front of her, slicing two bullets into the wall and dodging a third that flew past her shoulder. Deflecting and dodging blaster fire, the four Jedi took off at full sprint around the corner, away from their new attackers. Master Varn led as J'aal shouted directions to him. Left, right, forward, left, again. Every hallway and room looked identical. Bastila tried to remember the ship blueprints she had studied just hours before they left in their pod. But it was difficult to keep track, as more and more soldiers began taking notice of the four Jedi running through the halls.

While by no means overwhelming, there were far more Sith troops present than they had hoped. The battle outside and the Republic strike team were supposed to draw the guards away from this section of the ship. There may have been more soldiers garrisoned here than their intel had led them to believe. _And if they were wrong about that…_

Varn fought ferociously at the front of the group. He was carrying two lightsabers now, and more than one soldier fled at the sight of the four-armed Besilisk charging through the halls. Master J'aal's poise created a unique contrast behind Varn, as he calmly deflected bolt after bolt without breaking his stride. Bastila and Master Baniss held the rear. They moved slower than the other two, running half-turned around in order to keep the fire off their backs. Every turn down another corner was welcome relief, it meant a short break from being fired on from behind.

Finally, as they rounded another corner, it seemed as if they'd escaped their pursuers. Master J'aal raised a hand and all four Jedi, even Varn, in front of him, came to an instant stop. "We are here," he said.

In front of them, leading upwards, was a wide, metal walkway. At the top was a door more than twice the size of any they'd passed through on the way. The ceiling was higher here, and the distance between the dim lights and the dark floor blanketed the ground in shadow. Small bits of debris and blaster scars dotted the walls. Signs of a firefight.

"Where are the guards?" Bastila asked. Master Baniss responded simply by motioning to the walkway, where four soldier in Republic uniforms stepped out from their hiding places behind the railing. Bastila saw the bodies of at least four Sith soldiers that had been killed and dragged behind the rails. The soldiers had taken up position beneath the walkway, where there was storage space for a number of crates and other containers. A good spot to hide and wait for the Jedi to arrive.

Master Baniss brushed past the other three Jedi. "Is this all that's left?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement.

The most senior soldier replied. "We didn't take as many men as we'd originally planned, ma'am. Strike 1 was under heavy fire at docking bay, and the Captain didn't want our escape cut off."

"And, where is Captain Greshen?"

The soldier hesitated. "We lost him and four others on the way here," he paused again and held up his left arm. A gash filled with cauterized blood stretched between his wrist and elbow. A lightsaber wound. "We ran into a Sith warrior. I just got scratched, but the Captain was trying to hold her off while we ran."

Bastila could almost see the wheels turning in Master Baniss's head. They'd encountered more resistance than they'd expected, and how many Sith would be on the bridge guarding Revan? _Remove Revan, win the war._ They'd have to press on.

"We continue as planned," Master Baniss turned to Master J'aal. He had knelt sometime during the conversation, but he stood before responding.

"The bridge will be heavily guarded if they were warned. And our numbers are not as great as we'd hoped." He stroked his chin. "But I agree, we must press onward."

"Then let's go before our friends catch up." Master Varn motioned toward the direction the Jedi had come from. Bastila could hear the metallic sounds of the Sith soldiers' boots against the cold floor.

Oddly enough, Bastila found herself at the front of the small group running up the walkway. The large door opened automatically as she approached it, revealing that the path continued upwards into a larger room. Reaching the top, Bastila's heart dropped.

Eight. Eight red lightsabers reflected on the vast viewports of the ship's bridge. The eight Sith warriors stood side by side, each clad head to toe in black robes, making it impossible to tell their species or gender. Behind them stood a figure who could only be Revan. He faced away, observing the battle outside. The bridge crew calmly went about their work at the consoles around the edges of the circular room, not stopping to notice the four Jedi and the Republic soldiers who had entered.

The first Sith lunged toward Bastila.

She blocked his thrust with the front blade of her lightsaber, before twirling and cutting the Sith with her back blade. She immediately ducked as another red beam cut above her head as another Sith attempted to work his way around her back. Without turning her body, Bastila thrust the back blade of her lightsaber behind her, and heard the last gasp of the Sith warrior before he slumped to the ground. Now there were only six red beams.

The other Masters had already engaged the Sith and the soldiers had opened fire. Master Varn lifted one enemy off the floor with a large, brown hand before tossing him to the side. Five. Revan had not picked his guards well. These warriors lacked the finesse to fight three Masters and a Jedi knight.

Another Sith swung his blade at Bastila. She sidestepped and knocked his blade down with her lightsaber's back blade, pushing him forward and exposing the warrior's back. Bastila raised her lightsaber to strike at him, but the Sith jumped away from its reach. He sliced his lightsaber upwards, deflecting an errant blaster bolt from a Republic rifle towards Bastila. It missed, but she had to turn sideways to avoid it.

The Sith jumped forward, his lightsaber held in front. On instinct, Bastila moved towards, instead of away from, the charging Sith. This caught him off guard. Bastila landed flurry of lightsaber strokes from both ends of her weapon. She danced around the Sith, who was not prepared for her counterattack. He blocked her strokes as best he could, but finally, one of Bastila's strikes pierced through his guard. Her blade cut clean into the Sith's arm, then the other blade cut into his chest. The Sith fell to the ground in front of her.

Bastila whipped around to find her next attacker, but saw that the Sith she was fighting had been the last of Revan's guard left standing. Other than her allies and the bridge officers, who had continued to work through the fight, there was only one other figure. One red blade. Revan had turned to face the intruders.

In the chaos, one of the soldiers had tried to slip past the fight and catch Revan unaware. He was now rising into the air next to the Sith Lord, hands at his neck, gasping for air. Revan held one hand up and closed it into a fist. The soldier's desperate attempts to breathe stopped and he fell, limp. It was only then that Revan turned his full attention to the four Jedi.

With his back to the viewport, the Sith Lord made for a frightening image. His large, dark robe was almost formless against the background of space and stars behind him. If his face betrayed any fear, it was impossible to see behind the black and red mask he wore. Bastila had seen his face years ago, before he'd left for the Mandalorian Wars. But the man she had seen would be nowhere to be found behind that mask, now.

As Master Baniss and J'aal stood beside her, she found herself speaking, "You cannot win, Revan.". She sensed Master Varn behind her, and hoped the image of the Besilisk behind her made the words sound more confident than she'd felt saying them.

Revan held his lightsaber high and took a step forward. Behind him, the _Victory's_ counterpart, the _Leviathan_ flew into view, and Revan's body took form against the background of bright chrome. _Remove Revan, win the war._ The Sith Lord took another step forward.

Bastila made the first move. She jumped high and slashed down. Revan deflected the attack and she was rolled to the side. Baniss and Varn then attacked as one, slashing high and low. Revan dodged the attack. In one fluid movement, he blocked Varn's lightsaber and slid his red blade towards Baniss. It made contact with the hilt of her lightsaber and the green beam disappeared with a saddened hiss, just before Revan's blade gashed through her chest. Baniss fell. Master J'aal moved forward with his weapon held across his body. Varn stood behind Revan and activated his second blade, pointing both lightsabers outward. The three blue blades formed a triangle around the Sith Lord.

Bastila had regained her feet and held her weapon in front of her. She stepped toward the three men, now forming a square of blue, green, and yellow beams around the Sith. Master Varn broke the formation first, swinging the blade in his left arm towards Revan, holding the other back in defense. Revan turned to block Varn's blade with his own. Then, without looking, the Sith kicked behind him, placing his boot squarely in the chest of Master J'aal, knocking the Duros onto his back. Bastila stepped forward with her own blade as Varn took another swing, this time with the lightsaber in his right hand. Revan whipped his blade into Bastila's, forcing her arm to twisting so that her own lightsaber blocked Varn's attack. All three blades met in a clash of colors and Varn thrusted his second lightsaber towards the Sith.

Varn's blue blade pierced the Sith's shoulder, its glow shining through his black armor. But, before either of the Jedi could react, Revan waved his free hand and they both flew into the air, hurtling away from the Sith Lord. Bastila managed to spin into a summersault, regaining her composure as she landed on her feet. Varn had been less lucky and was less acrobatic. The strength of Revan's force wave sent him tumbling into a bridge console and the crewmember who'd been using it. The console sparked as he tried to stand. From the look of his leg, it seemed that Master Varn's lightsaber had stabbed his own leg when he fell.

Master J'aal was standing again, but Revan disarmed him with three quick strikes. Bastila was still on the far side of the bridge, too far to help as Revan's fourth strike gashed the Jedi Master from shoulder to waist. Revan held his lightsaber straight out as the Jedi yelled helplessly and collapsed at the Sith's feet.

Bastila began sidestepping, following along the room's circular wall, hoping to find some angle of attack to gain an advantage on the Sith Lord. _Remove Revan, win the war._ Master Varn was barely able to stand. Revan didn't even flinch as one of his blue lightsabers flew past his head, singing the robe by his neck. Bastila continued sidestepping, making a quarter of a circle around the room. Revan stood in the same spot, rotating so that he was always facing her, taunting her with his gaze, alone. She kept moving, studying his stance, and she was soon standing over the body of the first Sith warrior she had killed. Revan stood with the large viewport behind him, almost exactly where he'd been when she'd entered.

It was only then that she saw the red beams flying towards the ship from outside. The _Leviathan_ had turned its cannons on them. Revan was turned away from the viewport, and didn't know about them until it was too late. The very floor seemed to disintegrate in an explosion of white light below their feet.

Blinded, Bastila fell to her knees. Pain stabbed at her side. Reaching towards it, she felt the sticky wetness of blood running down her fingertips. Her hand scraped against a piece of jagged metal just below her rib. She had no idea how deep the wound was.

Bastila tried to stand. Reaching out, her hand felt something solid, and she tried to grasp it and pull herself up. Her finger, slick with blood, struggled to hold firm and the pain in her side worsened as she moved. She had to move. She had to stand.

Though her eyes were still blinded from the flash of the explosion, Bastila closed them and breathed deeply. With each breath, her mind cleared, and the pain dulled. She could feel the metal in her side, and knew that the stray shrapnel would not be enough to kill her today. Opening her eyes, Bastila found that her sight had returned. Through the force, she sensed the death around her. Feeling the emptiness of a body after the soul fled through the force was not a feeling one forgets easily.

Around her was metal, torn and ripped like paper by the blasts that had pierced the ship's hull. Emergency energy shielding was all that separated the bridge from the cold of outer space in places where the structure had been breached. They were only a temporary fix, meant to give the crew enough time to evacuate before the backup power supplies failed. What was left of the bridge was strewn with bodies. The crew, soldiers, Sith, Jedi. Those who had died in the explosion or in the fight, they were all empty. On the far side of the room, a figure clad in black lay where Revan had stood just moments before. _Remove Revan, win the war._

Bastila limped, wincing with every step. Inching forward, her foot caught on something soft and she fell forward. Bastila grimaced as her body seemed to tighten around the metal piece in her side. She looked behind her and saw it was the lifeless body of Master Varn which had tripped her. Bastila closed her eyes and pushed herself back onto her feet, forcing out any sorrowful thoughts about the dead Jedi Masters who had accompanied her.

Step by step, Bastila slowly came to rest above the the Sith Lord. The figure did not move as she had approached, blood pooling below his form. Bastila knelt, her anticipation overshadowing any pain she should have felt, and slowly lifted the mask from Revan's face. _Remove Revan, win the war._


	2. The Endar Spire

**Chapter 1: The** ** _Endar Spire_**

A year after Revan's death, the war raged on. Sith forces under the command Revan's former apprentice - and the new Dark Lord - Darth Malak, continued the campaign against the Republic. And, orbiting above the outer-rim world of Taris, a Republic ship was under attack.

The _Endar Spire_ rocked as blaster fire bombarded its shields. Alarms blared through the vessel, causing soldiers to fly from their bunks and race for their blasters. The interior of the ship was frenzy with activity; soldiers, technicians, and droids running in every direction. Then the intercom sounded. "Boarding craft approaching the Port airlock," the Captain's voice rang. The ship froze as the crew paused and looked towards the nearest loudspeaker. "All hands report to stations. Contact in ninety seconds," Captain Onasi sounded calm, but the authority in his voice was unmistakable. Even though the Jedi had command of the ship, Carth Onasi was still the captain. A beat after the broadcast ended, the soldiers were off in new directions.

The airlocks of the _Endar Spire_ were each placed at the end of a long corridor, and the inner doors were purposefully only large enough for one or two people to fit through at a time. Soldiers lined the passageway outside the door, ducking behind shallow walls spaced a meter or so apart, ostensibly built to provide cover in situations such as this, but they hardly seemed helpful to those actually behind them. Three dozen blasters were trained on the doors as Onasi announced, "Thirty seconds to contact."

The hallway quieted, soldiers' eyes fixed on the door. The ship continued to shudder under the enemy blaster fire, until, all of a sudden, it stopped. The soldiers momentarily looked towards the ceiling, puzzled. "Contact in ten." And their gaze was refocused on the door.

The enemy boarding craft attached to the _Endar Spire_ with an audible clank, and the passageway held its breath. From the end of the corridor, behind the soldiers, two lightsabers switched on with an audible _hiss_. In their rush, no one had taken notice of the two Jedi Generals who had slipped into the rear of the formation. They were flanked by their personal guard, a Republic soldier for each Jedi. A lightsaber weaving through the Republic insignia was emblazoned on each of their arms, the badge of the Jedi Guard. Practically, the guards were more assistants, aiding the Jedi with basic military and administrative duties rather than actually defending them from harm. But, as the sparks from cutting torches began to fly around the airlock's inner door, it seemed they were about to be called on to perform their named task.

The cutting torches stopped. The door fell forward.

The blaster fire appeared before the first Sith soldier passed through the opening, hitting one of the Republic's men. From their defensive positions, the soldiers returned fire. On land, grenades would have ended the battle swiftly for either side. But, on a ship, grenades were just as likely to injure the thrower as they were the target; there was no telling what system could be hit in the explosion. So, the first round of fighting was conducted on opposite sides of the airlock wall, both sides blindly firing through the opening. The slim passage bottlenecked any Sith troops that tried to come through, and the few that tried didn't make it more than two steps into the ship.

The tide turned when a red lightsaber appeared through the doorway. The Sith warrior deflected blaster fire as she stepped forward. In line behind her came Sith troops, each clad in identical metallic armor and jet-black visors, turning them into the faceless army that had conquered half the galaxy. Under the protection of her lightsaber, Sith soldiers began pouring through the door.

The Sith troops used the Republic's own shallow walls for cover as they slowly advanced through the hall. The Republic soldiers continued firing, but gave up ground quickly, as men and women were either shot or forced to fall back. The two Jedi moved forward, deflecting fire away from themselves and the soldiers near them. They reached the Sith warrior, and they engaged. The Jedi's two guards stayed back, ducking around the corner. It was unwise to fire on someone holding a lightsaber.

Around the duel, blaster fire continued to be traded on both sides, as if the Republic and Sith soldiers were simply ignoring the lightsaber-wielders in the middle of the firefight. The Sith troops continued to gain ground until there were only a handful of shallow walls between them and the end of the passageway.

At the end of the passage, one of the Jedi's guard grabbed the other's shoulder. "We have to go," he shouted urgently, over the sounds of the skirmish.

"This is our post," the second replied, continuing to return fire. The first guard was already beginning to back his way down the hall.

"The Sith have already won," he yelled, even louder than before, "Trask, we have to go."

The second guard fired another shot. In the passage, two more Republic soldiers were hit by enemy blaster fire. The Sith were only four walls away. The Jedi weren't doing well, either. One of them had broken away from the duel and was attempting to cut down the Sith soldiers as they came through the airlock, but it was a losing battle. Sith were pouring in too quickly, and he would soon be overwhelmed. The other was still fighting the Sith warrior, and was slowly surrounded by Sith troops before a blaster shot struck her in the back. The Sith warrior turned toward the other Jedi.

An advanced Sith boarding party and a Sith warrior now stood between them and the Jedi they were assigned to protect.

Without saying anything, both men retreated down the hall, away from the airlock. They hadn't been the only ones to fall back; several other Republic soldiers had decided to cut their losses and followed after them. The _Endar Spire's_ lights flickered on and off as they ran down the hall, the contrast between light and dark even more noticeable in the pure-white halls of the ship's interior.

"Escape Pods are this way," one of the soldiers said, gesturing the guards down a side corridor. The troops turned to follow him, except Trask.

"Gaius, wait" he called after his fellow guard. Gaius Starr turned, and stopped running. The other soldiers ignored him and continued around the corner towards the pod bay. "It wasn't right what we did. That was our post."

Gaius's gaze shifted down the hall from where they'd just come. Blaster fire was still being traded by both sides, but it wouldn't be long before the Sith finally broke through. Republic troops were running in both directions, some towards the fight, others away. "Trask, if we stayed, we'd be dead."

"You're right." Despite the admission, his comrade didn't move. "But, there are other Jedi on the ship, and we still have a duty to them. We swore an oath."

A soldier brushed past Gaius, heading for the escape pods. "The _Endar Spire_ is alone out here, and it's not going to last long enough for us to do anything useful."

"Do what you want. I'm not leaving without making sure the Commander is safe. That's our job." Trask Ulgo was by no means an imposing man, and not once in their twenty-seven standard days as bunkmates had he struck Gaius as commanding. Pale and thin, he looked more like a nobleman from Coruscant than a soldier. But the confidence with which Trask spoke made his words strong.

"Bastila will be on the bridge," Gaius said, at last. There was no more time to debate, and Trask wasn't wrong. They were members of the Jedi guard. They swore an oath to protect the Jedi.

Gaius and Trask started running. The bridge was over a third of the ship's length away, and, at some point, the Sith had started bombarding the _Endar Spire_ again. Every tremor made it hard for the two men to keep their balance. But they continued on as fast as they could, dodging fellow soldiers headed in the opposite direction, towards the escape pods.

There were two doors between them and the bridge when they were finally stopped. Trask waved his hand in front of the control panel, and the double-doors barely cracked open when Gaius yelled.

"Down!" Gaius yelled, but he didn't give Trask the chance to react, flinging himself into his bunkmate. The two crashed to the ground as a red lightsaber blade sliced the air where Trask had stood less than a second before.

On the other side of the door, a Jedi was engaged with a Sith warrior. Sparks flew each time their weapons made contact. Their blades moved too quickly to follow, making waves of blue and red that erupted in white light when they touched. Noticing the two men on the floor, the Jedi maneuvered herself between them and the Sith. With each swing of her lightsaber the Sith was forced away from where Trask and Gaius lay.

Still on the ground, Gaius pointed his blaster at the Sith. "Don't," Trask grabbed his arm, "we'll just get in the way." Gaius grudgingly put his weapon down. The fight had moved far enough away that it was safe to stand again, but Gaius felt useless watching and not being able to help.

The Jedi finally managed to surprise her opponent, brushing his blade to the side and kicking him into the wall. The Sith reflexively reached out his arms to brace himself, but exposed his chest in the process. Her lightsaber stabbed through the Sith, and he collapsed down the wall, his lightsaber blade disappearing as he fell.

The Jedi turned and looked at the two Republic soldiers. She started to speak, but never got out a word. A bright flash erupted from the ship's side, engulfing her in flames.

Gaius didn't have time to react; he was thrown by the explosion. He landed on his back, his head cracking against the cold, metal floor. He gasped for air, his eyes agape, staring at the ceiling. His ears were ringing so loud it was difficult to even think. The ceiling was a blur, seemingly moving on its own in circles. Gaius closed his eyes, and felt like he was about to vomit. All he could feel now was the pain slamming in his head, piercing from his eyes to the back of his neck.

Then, a new pain pinched in the back of his neck. Gaius's eyes opened, and the world rushed into focus. The nausea subsided, and faintly, through the ringing, he heard Trask's voice. "…okay?" he said. "Hey, can you hear me?" The ringing was fading along with the pain. Trask was standing over him now. "Gaius, are the stims working?"

He squeezed his hand into a fist, trying to focus his muscles, and he took a breath. "Yeah," he replied, at last, "they're working." He released the fist. The pain wasn't gone, but it was dulled. Trask stretched out a hand and helped Gaius to his feet.

The Jedi lay facedown, several feet from where she had been standing. Her robes had been burned by the blast, parts of them were still red from the heat. There was no sign of movement under them. Gaius slowly walked to her and bent over to check for a pulse. He looked back and shook his head.

"Damn." Trask didn't curse often.

"How did he get on board?" Gaius asked, gesturing to where the Sith's body had been before the explosion.

"There must've been another boarding party" Trask started towards the door on the far side of the room and pulled out his blaster. "Might not have been enough time to announce it, and the alarm was already on for the first breach. Now, come on, the bridge is through this door." Gaius nodded and held his blaster forward. His ears were still ringing and his head still hurt, but they had to move on. Trask waived his hand over the door control.

The Bridge was chaos. Blaster fire was being traded in all directions by a dozen Sith and Republic troops. The soldiers had all taken cover behind the ship's larger consoles, which were taking a beating from the firefight. Most of the viewports had been blown out, some replaced with metal blast shields and others with energy fields. Sparks flew in every direction and small fires sputtered as the _Endar Spire's_ vital wiring was hit with blaster bolts from both sides.

Trask and Gaius found themselves on the wrong side of the battle. Two Sith had been hiding behind the communications console, right next to the door.

Without hesitation, both men fired on the two Sith. Only the way their heads snapped around showed their surprise; the Sith armor completely hid their faces behind its black visors. Trask fired two more shots at nearby Sith troops while he and Gaius took the two Sith troop's position behind the communications console. The shots flew across the room and through a large holograph, which showed the positions of ships around the _Endar Spire_. The wall-sized map sputtered as the blasts flew by grazed a Sith soldier's armor.

Having unintentionally outflanked the Sith troops on the bridge, Gaius and Trask were in ideal position to end the firefight quickly. They opened fire on the remaining Sith soldiers. Caught between the newcomers and the Republic troops they had already been fighting, the Sith were overwhelmed and cut down by Republic blasters in seconds. One-by-one, Gaius and Trask's blaster fire either struck them down, or they moved to find new cover and the Republic soldiers on the far side of the room took them down. The smoke from the blaster marks on the walls, floor, and consoles cleared while the remaining soldiers emerged from behind their cover.

"Thanks for the help," one of the soldiers said. The insignia on his armor indicated he was a corporal, "We had Sith come in through both doors." He reached a hand out to another soldier lying with her back to a console, helping her up. Gaius noticed a blaster wound in her left leg.

"We just came from the port airlock. Sith overwhelmed our position." Gaius paused and looked around at the Republic soldiers. They all wore the Republic's standard red, black, and gold like him. No Jedi. "Where's Bastila?" he asked.

"Commander Shan was chasing a Sith through the starboard side, last I saw" the injured woman answered. She pointed to the door opposite the one they had come in. The ship's interior was built in a horseshoe, with two large hallways running down the length of the ship and several smaller halls connecting them. The bridge was at the peak of the horseshoe's curve, giving the bridge crew easy access to both halves of the ship. "She and Commander Tegan were the only Jedi on the Bridge when the Sith attacked," on cue, the _Endar Spire_ rocked as another blast made its way through the shield and connected with the hull. "The rest were at the airlocks," she finished.

"Tegan was also fighting one of the dark Jedi," another soldier, an Iridonian, added. Gaius already knew that. Siri Tegan was the Jedi who died in the explosion. The Republic soldiers had already begun making their way through the door leading to the port-side. "Now, let's go, we have to get to the escape pods. The ship won't last much longer."

Trask shook his head, "We need to find Bastila." Some of the soldiers shot him puzzled looks, others continued on their way to the door. "We have to make sure she gets off the ship. You all head for the escape pods. If you hurry, you'll make it there before it's overrun."

"She's probably headed for the escape pods, herself," the Corporal said, "assuming she made it through the Sith."

"Bastila killed Revan. She's fine," Gaius replied. He grabbed a small kit from his belt and handed it to the injured soldier. "For your leg," he said. The medkit wouldn't completely heal the leg, but it would help her get by until she could get treatment.

The woman didn't thank him out loud, but nodded as she took the kit from Gaius. She winced as the corporal walked her towards the door, helping to take the weight off her injured leg. "Good luck," she said as the door closed behind them. Gaius turned to follow Trask, who had already opened the starboard door.

"We should hurry," Trask said as the ship rocked from another round of Sith fire. Gaius glanced at the opposite end of the room, where the soldiers had just left. "They'll be fine." Trask probably meant the statement as much for his own reassurance as he did for Gaius's.

"Right behind you." Gaius genuinely wanted to fulfill their mission. Jedi guard positions were given to lower-ranking officers, typically Ensigns, but it was still their duty to assure the Commanders' protection. He just hoped they were able to do so before the _Endar Spire_ caved in to the Sith's bombardment.

The Starboard section of the _Spire_ were eerily empty compared to the commotion on the ship's other half. Only a handful of Republic troops darted in an out of the main hall as Gaius and Trask ran past. No one stopped to talk or ask why they were heading the wrong way. Signs of fighting were abundant. Everywhere they looked were blaster marks on the walls, dysfunctional droids, and the bodies of both Sith and Republic men and women.

They only ran into one living Sith soldier in the hall. The enemy saw them first, firing several shots before Gaius and Trask realized he was even there. Fortunately, all of them missed. Without breaking their stride, they lifted their own blasters and returned fire. Trask hit the Sith once in the leg, and Gaius's bolt found his chest. The Sith collapsed forward with a loud _clank_ as his armor collided with the floor.

The two men kept jogging, but were far more careful after that incident, sticking closer to the walls and keeping their eyes peeled for movement. Partially because of this vigilance, they heard the lightsaber coming.

As they walked through one of the small rooms where the starboard hallway and one of the halls that connected to the port side intersected, the _hiss_ of a lightsaber switching on came from behind them. Gaius wheeled around and fired. The Sith warrior deflected both the blasts back past Gaius's head. Trask fired and, again, the Sith sent the bolts within inches of their shooter. The Sith was toying with them, he could have easily killed them both with the deflections.

The soldiers slowly backed away, blasters trained forward. The Sith grinned and casually stepped towards them, matching their pace. He twirled his double-bladed lightsaber around his body, making patterns in the air with the red beams and cutting into the floor and walls around him. The smell of melted metal wafted through the corridor as the blades splashed sparks into the filtered air. Watching him show off, Gaius wanted to put a blaster bolt in the Sith's bald head. It would make for an excellent target if the bolt wouldn't have come flying back at him.

As Gaius backed through the doorway into the main hall, he resisted the urge to glance around and make sure it was clear of other soldiers. Looking away from the Sith would certainly mean death.

Trask was almost in front of him now. Gaius had backpedaled faster, exiting the connecting room, while his comrade stood nearly stock still, mere feet from the Sith. There had to be some plan, some way to get away from him. But, it was then he realized that Trask was not just slow, he had stopped moving entirely, as if frozen in place. Their grinning enemy was practically on top of him.

Trask muttered something meekly towards Gaius, or perhaps it was a quiet plea for mercy directed at the Sith. His heard turned slowly, as if the muscles in his neck were at war with themselves, preventing it from movement. Trask's eyes were moistened and his body shook with fear, yet he did not move from the spot. Even his arms continued to hold the blaster at chest-level as they trembled. His lips opened though no words came out.

Gaius raised an unsteady hand, directing his blaster at the wall. The Sith took a step closer to Trask as Gaius fired a single shot into the door's control console.

Of the many safety protocols on the _Endar Spire_ , the most sensitive was the automatic magnetic sealing of damaged doors. In the event of a hull rupture or explosion, they were designed to instantly shut to prevent rapid depressurization throughout the ship. Due to the necessary over-responsiveness of the protocol, shooting the door's controls had the same effect.

In an instant, Trask and the Sith disappeared. Gaius shut his eyes before his bunkmate disappeared behind a wall of cold metal. He would have sworn that a red beam had appeared in Trask's chest just as the door closed, but it didn't matter either way. Trask was no match for a Sith warrior.

Gaius cursed Trask for not moving faster, or perhaps he cursed the decision he'd been forced to make. His head was spinning, knowing that he had just doomed his friend, forcing him to make an unwilling sacrifice for their mission. Yet, Gaius knew it was the right call, there was nothing in this galaxy that he could have done to save Trask.

He paused for a second to catch his breath and gather his thoughts, dropping to a knee until the hall stopped swirling around him. This felt worse than recovering from the explosion earlier. After a minute, Gaius stood and turned down the hall, taking off at a full sprint. The magnetic seal would take some time to break through, but that lightsaber would still be able to breach it. His legs seemed to carry his body without thought, propelling him away from danger, and away from the decision he'd made.

His eyes could barely follow as the monotone corridor swept past. Somehow, this section of the ship was even more deserted than the one before it. Not a single Sith, Jedi, or Republic soldier was in the hall. Not any living ones, anyway, there were plenty of bodies lining the floor.

Again, Gaius cursed Trask for not moving fast enough and trapping himself in the room. They could have shot the door controls with both of them on the same side, or they could have taken the Sith on together, or…

Now wasn't the time to think about alternative outcomes, he couldn't change it now. Trask was dead and Gaius wasn't, end of story. Had their positions been reversed, he knew Trask wouldn't have made the same call, they'd both be dead, and Bastila would be on her own. This way, at least one of them had a chance to finish their objective. Gaius wasn't sure if Trask would see things that way, or if he understood in the moments before his death, but trying to analyze something that happened so quickly was futile.

Without resistance in the main hall, Gaius arrived at the starboard airlock in under a minute. It was the only place he could think of where a Jedi could be, hopefully fighting the Sith back into their boarding craft. The scene here looked much the same as the one on the opposite side of the ship. The Sith had marched through the inner door of the airlock as Republic soldiers lined the hall and tried to hold them back. There were far fewer Republic troops, or bodies of Republic troops, than Gaius expected. Trask must have guessed right; the Starboard side didn't have the same warning that it was being boarded.

However, it was the end of the hall that appeared most odd. Instead of a door or an entrance to the Sith boarding craft, there was nothing. The slight purple glow of an energy shield covered the spot where the Sith had carved a hole into the airlock to board through.

After staring for at the emptiness of space for several long moments, Gaius realized what it meant. The Sith were leaving the _Endar Spire_. There was nothing preventing them from finishing their bombardment and leaving the ship for scrap.

It was then that the secondary alarm sounded. The standard Republic ship had two alarms. The first had been going off since the first laser hit the _Endar Spire's_ shields. The second alarm signaled an evacuation. It meant the ship was about to be destroyed.

Gaius dropped his blaster and took off at full sprint. The escape pods weren't far from the airlock. He rounded the corner where, on the other half of the ship, he and Trask debated whether to leave the ship or to try and find Commander Shan. Now, here he was, Bastila Shan nowhere to be found and Trask dead. Gaius practically ran into the pod bay door, pausing only long enough to open it.

The escaped pods docked in two rows, but most of those docks were empty now. Only a single pod, at the end of the room, was still in its dock. Flying down the rows, he heard someone in front of him yelling.

"Get in!" It was Captain Onasi. He must have stayed behind to make sure any stragglers weren't trapped on the ship.

Gaius jumped into the pod. Before he could find a seat, Carth punched the controls. Gaius lurched back as they accelerated out of the dock.

The escape pod was equipped with two viewports, one facing forward, and the other behind, with a row of seats on each side of the pod's interior. The rear viewport gave them a view of the _Endar Spire_ as it broke apart under the Sith salvos. They had launched seconds before it was destroyed. Gaius turned to face the front, as his home for the past month exploded behind the pod. The planet, Taris, grew in front ahead of them.

"Commander Shan?" he asked.

"She got out," Captain Onasi responded, without looking at him, "Took the pod right before us". At least Gaius would have the opportunity to follow his orders planet-side.

Carth's gaze was fixed ahead. A Sith fighter flew past their viewport, but it either didn't notice them or didn't care, and continued on, harmlessly. The two soldiers watched, wordless, as the city that covered the Taris's landmass came into view.

Streaks of red and orange flame appeared as they plunged through the upper layers of atmosphere. Carth sat at the controls, but there was little he could do. The escape pods all had preset landing coordinates.

They were approaching the planet's clouds when the ship suddenly bucked, knocking Gaius off his feet. A light on the control console flashed, as the entire capsule began to vibrate. Several stray bolts flew past them, followed by a Sith fighter overhead. The pilot must have changed his mind and doubled back.

The small pod was gaining speed, and it was still shaking as it passed through a layer of clouds. The Sith fighter disappeared above them. With any luck, it had finished its pursuit.

Not that they were having much luck now. Gaius could already make out details in the city. Tall buildings, landing platforms, and the spacious walkways that made up the planet's famed Upper City expanded rapidly as they approached. Carth gripped the controls. He shouted in frustration, but nothing was responding. A stream of thick, black smoke was erupting from behind them, blocking their view through the rear viewport.

Carth was doing everything he could to slow the ship, but nothing worked. The pod was close enough to the planet that they could see individual people on the walkways. Gaius grabbed hold of a security bar. It was used to strap in passengers, but he was still standing. He swore he saw people on the surface stop and look up in their direction.

Then the pod crashed.


	3. Quarantined

Author's Note: Just for fun, I'd like to keep a reminder here that this chapter was first published the same day as Star Wars Episode VII.

 **Chapter 2: Quarantine**

The white lights hurt his eyes. Everything hurt, really. It didn't help that Gaius didn't know where he was. The last thing he remembered was the _Endar Spire_ exploding through the rear window of the escape pod, the Sith fighter flying past, and then he and…

A bolt of pain struck through his head. Gaius groaned as the aches he already felt multiplied tenfold, radiating through his head, down the neck and through the rest of his body. This was far worse than the explosion on the _Spire_. Gaius closed his eyes, and in the darkness, Gaius thought he saw the face of someone familiar. But who, he couldn't place. Like a friend he'd only known in a dream.

Slowly, the pain began to fade, and the image with it. Eventually, they disappeared almost entirely. He was starting to remember now. He and Trask were on the _Endar Spire_. They escaped in an...

No, Trask didn't escape. Gaius remembered being in the escape pod with Captain Onasi before they crashed. So, he must be on Taris. But, where?

Gaius sat up for what felt like the first time in weeks. He was sore. His arms, legs, stomach, his whole body strained at the simple task of sitting upright. He had to support himself with his arms to keep from falling backwards or onto the floor. Scanning around, he appeared to be in a medbay. At least the kolto tanks along the wall made it look that way.

The tank nearest him was empty, but the rest were all occupied by men and women with varying injuries. A multi-limbed medical droid floated from tank to tank, checking vital signs. The small ball that made up the droid's "body" turned and looked at him through a single, red sensor. One of the arms that protruded from the top of the droid pressed a button on the nearest kolto tank before the droid turned and flew to the far wall. A door opened, but Gaius couldn't see the other side from this angle.

As it closed, Gaius checked the rest of his surroundings. He was sitting on a large, flat bed, common furnishing in the medbays of Republic ships. Two similar, but empty, beds were lined along the nearby wall. Otherwise, the room was featureless, save for the kolto tanks and their occupants. Gaius's red, yellow, and black Republic uniform was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he wore unmarked, tan plainclothes.

"Well, good to have you back in the land of the living." The voice came from the doorway. An older, dark skinned, man entered, accompanied by the medical droid. "You've been out for quite a while, but there's not much a few days in a kolto bath can't fix."

The man was not dressed like a physician. Like Gaius, he wore simple plainclothes, though his were green. The man walked to the empty kolto tank and began inputting something into the keypad.

"Where am I?" Gaius asked.

"You're on Taris." The clear fluid in the tank began to drain, leaving the breathing mask dangling by its long, clear tube. "I'm Doctor Forn. Though, most of my patients just call me Zelka."

"This is a hospital?" That was a relief, and it made sense. "How did I get here?" He wasn't complaining. A hospital was a far better scenario than the medbay of a Sith prison ship, but Gaius wasn't fond of being out of the know.

"Well, technically we're closed right now. With the Sith occupation, I've had to keep a closer eye on my kolto reserves." He led the medical droid to Gaius, "As for you, I saw your escape pod crash on the upper terrace when it came down. A few people pulled you and Carth out of the wreckage and took you here."

The medical droid hovered next to Gaius's shoulder and he felt a slight pinch below his shoulder. "Hold still while it takes your vitals," the doctor told him. The droid beeped and whirred before retracting an appendage and floating back to Zelka.

"My name is Gaius, by the way."

"Oh, I know," Zelka responded while reading the data off the screen on the droid's sphere. He had a deep voice, but spoke softly. It had a calming effect that must have been perfected over years of dealing with patients. "Carth told me all about you. Name, history, skills. Knows all about them, too," he gestured to the men and women floating in kolto tanks along the wall. He sighed, "It's a real shame. Wish there was more I could do more for them."

Looking closer, Gaius realized the faces in the tanks were familiar. Soldiers from the _Endar Spire_. No one he knew particularly well, but he had met some of them before. "Thank you," Gaius said. It wasn't really in response to anything Zelka did, but it felt appropriate.

The old man simply nodded. "Your vitals check out surprisingly well, considering you just woke up form a Kolto bath." Zelka otherwise ignored Gaius's comment. "Once Carth gets back you should be good to leave. Just take it easy for a few days, though it's not like there's much you could do with the planet quarantined."

Gaius stood from the bed. Everything was stiff, but he was mostly able to ignore it once his limbs were moving around. He had a lot of questions, but if the Captain was nearby, he was probably more suited to bring Gaius up to speed. Zelka led him out of the medical room and into a large office space. There were two large desks and a number of chairs scattered around. Large, glass cabinets filled with medical supplies, stimulants, and medicines lined the walls.

"I've given my assistant an extended vacation for the Sith occupation, so you'll be able to wait out here." Zelka walked over to one of the desks and began typing into his console, "Pick any chair you like."

"I'll pass on the chair. I need to get back on my feet." Zelka's reaction was either a chuckle or a cough. Gaius tried to distract himself by browsing the glass cabinets, but found himself trying to start a conversation, anyway. "I take it your assistant isn't too keen on helping Republic soldiers."

"Gurney is…" Zelka started, before looking up from his work. "No. He'd probably turn us both in to the Sith if he knew. There's probably some kind of reward for Republic soldiers."

Gaius chuckled at that. He was a grunt, there was no reason the Sith would want him for anything other than having one less Republic soldier to deal with. The old man didn't react, but continued about his work. Gaius made his way down the row of cabinets and found himself in front of a small window, looking over the city below.

Taris was beautiful. Tall, rounded buildings gleamed under the high sun. The architecture was more elegant than the rigidity of Courscant and other planet-wide cities. The structures curved and flowed into one another, as if the city's buildings had grown naturally. Large, flat walkways covered the spaces between buildings, and those were dotted with statues and sculptures. Gaius examined the city for a long while.

"Will Captain Onasi be back soon?" he asked, after deciding he'd stared long enough.

Zelka seemed amused that Gaius had referred to Carth by his rank. "He won't be too long," Zelka looked up from his console. "It was actually odd that you woke up while he wasn't here. When he isn't bringing in more soldiers, he's been helping look after you and the rest of them back there." The door at the front of the office opened, and Zelka smiled, "Speak of the devil, himself."

Captain Carth Onasi stepped into the office with a grin on his face. His Republic uniform had been traded out for a dark orange jacket, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, but, he smiled at Gaius, nonetheless. "Good to see you awake. Much better than thrashing around in your sleep." He looked to Zelka, "Thank you for looking after him."

"It was my pleasure," Zelka stood and approached Carth, "You just keep your heads down out there."

"We'll do our best, but I can't make any promises." The two men shook hands before Zelka went back to his desk. "If there's anything you need, let me know."

The old man shook his head, "I'm just doing my job. And, I have a feeling you two will need a lot more help than I will. Did you get the message I sent you?"

Carth nodded, "I've already arranged a meeting with Holdan tonight. I can't thank you enough." Gaius had no idea what their conversation was about, but figured he'd be caught up soon enough. "Those other men you have back there…" Carth paused and looked to the closed door to the back room, "they're good soldiers. Good men and women, and-"

"Don't worry," Zelka cut him off, "Like I said, it's my pleasure to help. The Republic doesn't have many friends on the outer-rim, but a few of us are smart enough to know who's kept us safe all these years."

Carth nodded and directed his attention to Gaius, "We should get going." He was a little confused by the brevity of Carth and Zelka's conversation, but followed the officer outside.

The window in Zelka's office must've been tinted. Gaius had to hold a hand over his eyes so they could adjust to the sunlight. The same reflections that made the buildings so elegant were now making it impossible to see under the midday sun. The hospital was several floors above the nearest walkway, so Carth had parked a small, two-seated speeder on the large balcony.

It was the same, reflective color as the buildings of Taris. "Where'd you get that?" Gaius asked.

"Local store. You'd be surprised how low prices drop when the Sith are preparing to impound the entire stock." Carth hopped over the side and into the driver seat. Gaius did the same, briefly forgetting how sore his legs were, and his knee was banged on the side of the speeder.

The speeder's engines gunned and Carth guided the vehicle off the balcony. Once they were clear of the building, Gaius spoke, "Zelka mentioned the Sith have the planet under quarantine. Last I remember, this was Republic space. What exactly did I miss?" The sooner he knew their situation, the sooner he could start helping.

Carth didn't answer right away. He turned their speeder into a designated flight zone, with a stream of other speeders flowing in the same direction all around them. Finally, the Captain sighed and began to speak. "The Sith are looking for Bastila. She was the reason they attacked the _Endar Spire_ , why they sent boarding parties instead of just destroying the ship. I saw her leave in a pod before we left, but I don't know where she landed. The best leads I have are rumors of Republic escape pods landing on the planet's surface, where the locals call the Undercity.

"We were lucky. Our pod crashed on one of the walkways up here, and some Republic supporters, like Zelka, helped us and got us medical attention. They helped other soldiers they found, too, until the Sith occupation started. It only took a couple of days for the Sith have the entire planet under quarantine. No ships can get on or off the planet without Sith permission, which, from what I hear, isn't easy to come by."

"Why occupy the planet? They've cleared out the only Republic ship in the area, and it's not like Taris is a strategic location." Gaius was getting the picture, now. He was glad to finally have someone with him to clear things up, though he still had more questions than answers. "Also, where are we going?"

Carth smirked at the second question. Gaius didn't blame him, compared to the first, it seemed rather simple to answer. "An abandoned apartment where I've been staying. Zelka's already put himself in enough risk by taking in Republic troops in the middle of a Sith occupation, so we'll be keeping as far away from him as we can." Carth turned the speeder out of the traffic flow and towards a smaller building on the skyline. They were headed straight for an entrance on its side. "As for the quarantine, hopefully the Sith are like us and still don't know where Bastila is. That's why we're going to find her first." Once inside the building, Carth parked the speeder and climbed out.

"So we'll start with the pods in the Undercity," Gaius said as he followed Carth out of the vehicle and to an elevator on the far side of the garage. It was cold, but nearly as bright as it had been outside. For a garage, it had been designed to reflect just as much light as the outside of the building.

"It's not that simple." The elevator arrived and they started the ride upwards. As the lift rose, its window offered a view of the city below. It felt a little too like the last few moments before the escape pod crashed for Gaius's comfort. "The Sith are checking the identification of everyone coming and going between the Upper and Lower Cities. And we need to go through the Lower City to get to the planet's surface. If the Sith have a crew manifest from the _Endar Spire_ , and I'm betting they do, we'll be arrested on sight."

The elevator arrived on their floor. The hall was crowded, so they didn't speak on their way through it. Gaius noticed that the population was far more diverse here than he had observed on the walkway. Ithorians, Rodians, Twi'leks, Aqualish, the only human was a janitor. Their destination wasn't far from the elevator, only three or four doors down the hall.

As the Captain lead him into the apartment, two questions were still nagging at Gaius. "Why is Bastila so important?" _And was she important enough for Trask's sacrifice to matter?_ The second question, he didn't ask.

It was hard to tell what Carth thought based on the face he made at that question. "Other than her being the commanding officer of your ship?"

"That's not what I meant," the words came out more angry than defensive, "Why quarantine an entire planet to find one Jedi? Why track her to a Republic ship in the middle of nowhere?"

"Bastila killed Revan, Darth Malak's master" Carth said the words like he was speaking to a child.

"I knew that. Everyone knows that. But why all the trouble?"

Carth paused and closed the door before answering. "This war with the Sith, it's not like the Mandalorian Wars or any other war the Republic has been in. Most of the Sith's forces used to be loyal to the Republic. When Bastila killed Revan, we thought the war was over, it was the biggest victory we had in years. Obviously, the war didn't end, but it brought us back from the brink. And Bastila is the symbol. She's proof that the Republic can win, that Darth Malak's forces aren't invincible. If the Sith were to kill her, or worse, it would be for us what it was like for the Sith to lose Revan. Malak could tell the galaxy that he killed the one Jedi Revan couldn't."

Gaius wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer. He was expecting to hear that she was a strategic military genius or knew some game-changing Jedi force magic to help win the war. But, he decided to let it go. Carth's first answer should have been enough for a soldier, let alone a Jedi guard. Bastila Shan was his commanding officer, and it was his duty to ensure her safety. "So, what's the plan?"

"For now, the plan is for me to follow up with a lead on some fake identification papers. Hopefully, they'll be enough to get us past the Sith roadblock and into the Lower City. From there, we can start searching for info on the crashed escape pods."

"You're leaving already?"

"I'm already late for the meeting. I didn't expect you to be awake already, so I didn't plan on coming back here before going. I won't be long, though, and you just woke up from a week-long kolto bath. You should take it easy." Carth started to leave, but he stopped before opening the door. The Captain turned back to Gaius, "Look, I'm not going to be able to find Bastila on my own. I will need your help. There's a reason you were assigned to the Jedi's guard, they don't just hand out those positions to anyone. I know you're useful, but right now, I need you to stay put."

"Yes, sir," it was the only response that seemed appropriate to Gaius. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of Carth's compliment. The Captain was loved for being the type of officer who knew every soldier under his command, but he wasn't one to make many friends among the crew. It did feel a little demeaning for Carth to think he needed to reassure Gaius that he was useful. He was a soldier of the Republic Navy. But, for now, Gaius was alone in an abandoned apartment with no instructions other than to stay put.

He did the only thing he could think to do, and explored. It wasn't a large apartment, just two rooms, but they were both fully furnished with a table, a sofa, chairs, and a large bed in the back room. Blaster marks on the walls provided clues as to why the previous tenant might have left it abandoned. Gaius laid on the bed in the back room and closed his eyes, running his hands over his face and through his hair. It was shorter than when he was on the _Endar Spire_. Zelka must have cut it. His facial hair had also begun to grow, and the stubble of a new beard was already beginning to itch.

As Gaius lay with his eyes closed, the face he'd seen in the hospital returned. She was clearer than before, and, thankfully, not accompanied by the stabbing pain. She was definitely a woman. Fair skin, brown hair and eyes, and surrounded by a yellow haze. Still, Gaius couldn't place her, and he dismissed it as a recurring dream. He was lying on a bed with his eyes closed, after all.

Gaius opened his eyes and saw more blaster marks on the ceiling. He hated waiting. This was worse than having to stand back and watch the Jedi, Tegan, fight a Sith without being able to help. Sitting up, Gaius decided to have a look around the building. Better to walk off the soreness than to rest it.

The aliens in the hall were even more diverse than he'd thought. There were only two or three individuals from any one species. Most of the occupants simply ignored him, though he did catch a few following him with their eyes.

He picked up bits and pieces of conversation as he walked past them. There was the odd conversation about trade markets or the attractive Twi'lek someone was bragging about taking home, but between being stuck on the planet, cramped in small apartments, and – from the sound of things – unwelcomed by the locals, the majority of the residents were complaining about the quarantine. The only people willing to talk to Gaius in the hall were the human janitor, who yelled at him to watch where he walked, and a green Twi'lek trying to sell some gizmo which he claimed could stop blaster bolts.

Continuing on, Gaius made his way back to the building's elevator and figured it wouldn't hurt to survey the lower floors. Unfortunately, the elevator came to a stop after only one floor, and he had to share the remainder of the ride down with a particularly smelly Gamorrean. The pigman didn't acknowledge him, facing forward, away from the glass window, the entire trip. The elevator came to rest on one of the lower floors, where the apartment building met with the Upper City walkway.

As the elevator arrived, however, Gaius and the Gamorrean found themselves face to face with a man wearing a Sith uniform. He was flanked by two war droids, each armed with unusually large blaster rifles. Gaius instinctively reached for his hip, but only grabbed air. He realized he didn't have a weapon on him.

"Up against the wall," the Sith officer ordered, pointing his pistol at the Gamorrean. It was only after the pig moved that he saw Gaius. "What's this? A human in an alien apartment?" He pointed his pistol at Gaius, "Perhaps we have a Republic fugitive in our midst."

Gaius put his hands in the air. "No, I'm with him," he said, pointing to the Gamorrean. The officer didn't laugh.

"Perhaps some time at the Sith base will wipe the smirk off your face." The Sith waved him out of the elevator. He turned to one of the droids, "Search him." This was why Carth wanted him to stay put.

Two Duros were already standing against the wall with the Gamorrean. "This isn't necessary," Gaius said as the battledroid approached him.

Now the Sith laughed. "I'm afraid it is. Never know what we will find among all of you off-world residents."

"«This is third raid this week,»" one of the Duros interjected in his native Durese. "«You keep coming and finding nothing. You have no right to keep bothering us.»" He looked to the other Duros, "«Glin, tell him, it's only been two days since they were last here.»"

"Quiet, or you'll be joining him in a cell," the Sith officer responded. The second Duros stayed quiet.

The droid lowered its rifle and began patting down Gaius. As the cold, metallic hands searched, Gaius desperately tried to come up with some kind of plan. "The alien is right," he said as the droid finished his search, finding nothing, "this is just as much a waste of your time as ours."

"So, you agree with him? I should just pack up and end my day early?" The Sith pointed to the dissident Duros. This was good. Keep buying time. He needed to keep the Sith talking, distract him long enough, and he might be able to think up something.

Gaius nodded. "I think that's a good idea. You get some time off, and we don't get searched."

The Sith didn't even pretend to ponder the idea. Just a beat after Gaius finished talking, he turned and shot the Duros without missing a beat. Gaius hadn't expected that. The eyes of the Duros's companion widened even more as his friend collapsed face-down beside him.

Gaius wished Carth had left him a blaster.

Fortunately, what he lacked in firepower was made up for by five hundred pounds of angry Gamorrean. With a loud squeal, he yanked the nearest battle droid off the ground and tossed it to the side, where it crumpled against a wall.

The Sith officer looked shocked. He fired a shot at the Gamorrean, but – in what was likely the worst shot Gaius ever witnessed – the Sith missed. Barely grazing his target, he was promptly tackled by the large Gamorrean.

Gaius used the opportunity to knock himself into the battledroid that had searched him. Two-legged, humanoid droids were useful for communication purposes, but they also possessed the same weaknesses as a flesh-and-blood human. The battledroid toppled easily once it lost its footing. Gaius grabbed the rifle from its hand and placed a bolt in its main circuitry. The droid crackled and sputtered as its vital processors malfunctioned and died.

The Gamorrean and Glin the Duros, were still dealing with the officer. The Sith must have dropped his blaster pistol when the he was tackled, because the Duros was holding it. The blaster was pointed directly at the officer, who was unable to move under the weight of the Gamorrean, but the Duros's hands were shaking.

Gaius walked to him and delicately took the gun from his hands. The Gamorrean had beaten the Sith bloody; there was no point in letting it continue. Gaius fired a shot.

The pigman gave him a dirty look before standing up. Gaius wasn't sure if he should be worried as the Gamorrean stared at him. After several seconds, though, the pig walked off with nothing more than a grunt.

The Duros was on his knees. "«Poor Ixgil,»" he said, looking back to his lifeless friend, "«I told him to watch what he says to the Sith. He should never have talked back like that. I'm sorry he got us into all this trouble.»"

Gaius didn't like letting the deceased Duros take the blame for their predicament. He would have likely been fine if Gaius had stayed in the apartment like he'd been told. And that 'trouble' was what had kept him from being brought in to the Sith base.

"Someone will come searching for this patrol," Gaius said scanning the mess of droid parts and the dead Sith that now cluttered the hall. He hadn't planned on killing a Sith officer when he'd left the apartment upstairs. The last thing he needed was for the Captain to come back to an entire squad of Sith troops searching room to room.

"«I will move the bodies to make it look like this fight happened elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track.»" The Duros stood and brushed himself off. All of a sudden, he seemed unshaken by the death of his friend and the killing of a Sith. "«You should disappear for a while. The Sith will be suspicious of an off-worlder in an alien apartment.»"

Gaius agreed. He would have to find somewhere else to stay put and wait for Carth to come back.


	4. Criminals

**Chapter 3: Criminals**

It was hard for a place as beautiful as the Upper City of Taris to feel seedy, but if there was a corner of this planet where that was possible, Carth had found it. Once the sun passed its peak point in the sky, it set behind several tall buildings, blanketing the Western Market Walkway in their shadow for the rest of the day.

The walkway was a misnomer. If it had once functioned as a market, that was no longer the case. There was hardly a shop still open in this part of Taris. Under the Sith quarantine, every thug, gangster, and petty thief in the Upper City made their way here. Most of them didn't want to risk handing identification to the Sith and being arrested on sight. Even though the checkpoint was there to catch a certain Jedi, the Sith weren't above tossing the local criminals in a cell. And, a Sith prison was a far worse fate than whatever functioned as a jail for Taris prior to the occupation.

Carth kept one hand on his blaster as he walked past shops which had long been abandoned by their true owners. Now, they served as makeshift shelters for former Lower City residents. Men and women, humans and aliens all huddled in the abandoned stores until they could make their way back to their homes and gangs.

Every eye on the walkway followed Carth as he marched passed the worn-down buildings, carefully staying in the center of the walkway. He wondered if he should have brought Gaius along for this meeting. Under normal circumstances, he would have. But, Ensign Starr was a late addition to the crew, Carth hadn't had the time to get to know him aboard the _Endar Spire_. Carth hated dealing with unknowns, and he wasn't desperate enough to start. Not yet, at least.

He also hated the city. Carth gazed at the cold metal of the buildings with disdain. They reminded him of his early days serving on Coruscant. That was before the Mandalorian Wars took him to the Outer Rim. Carth longed for the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet, for the fresh grass of Telos. But that wasn't an option now, and he needed to focus on the mission at hand.

The Republic Captain came to a halt in front of a shop with a single broken door. A neon sign reading _Nall's Droid Repair_ sputtered above the doorway. Carth was certain that, whoever Nall was, she would be nowhere near her old store. The shop windows were welded closed with metal from the walkway below them, exposing the framework and pipes under the ground.

A single Weequay guard stood in the doorway with a rifle. The alien shouted something at him in her native language. Carth was familiar with a number of alien dialects, but Weequay was not one of them. But, based on the blaster rifle pointed at him, the message was clear.

The grip on Carth's pistol tightened. "I'm here to see Zax," he said. One of the skills he developed as a Captain was speaking with confidence, no matter what the situation was. The Weequay's eyes narrowed, scanning him.

"Lots people. Come talk Zax," she replied in broken Basic. The blaster rifle was still pointed at Carth's chest. "Who you?"

"Holdan is expecting me." Carth wasn't about to let every petty thug on the planet know who he was, and mentioning 'Gurney's' contact seemed to spark the guard's attention well enough. "I'm looking to buy."

The Weequay nodded and took a step back, into the building. She kept her rifle pointed at Carth, but turned her head toward the building's interior. Carth could hear another Weequay talking to her inside. The guard's eyes kept darting between her would-be target and whoever she was talking to.

The conversation ended, and the Weequay stepped back outside, passing through the doorway. She motioned with her rifle for Carth to go inside.

The interior of the shop was larger than he'd expected, probably because it was almost entirely empty. Several years of abandonment on the Western Market Walkway had allowed looters to take everything that wasn't bolted down. The Hutt that resided here now hadn't done much to clean the place up. The entire room was damp, mold was growing on the walls and the whole place smelled like a dying rodent. Carth was reminded of Coruscant, again.

Two other Weequay guards were inside, gambling at a table. They didn't give Carth a second glance as he walked inside, too fixated on their dice game to care about doing their jobs. Their blasters rifles were lying on the ground by their chairs, out of the way of the dice on the table.

Carth waited, expecting something to happen, his hand never leaving the blaster pistol hidden under his jacket. Finally, the door on the far wall, which once would have led to the store's supply room, opened. A man whom Carth guessed was Holdan, walked through. For some reason, Carth had expected someone taller. Holdan was well-built, though, and the long scar on his cheek at least made it appear that he could hold his own in a fight.

"So, you're Gurney's friend?" the man asked, holding a hand the first time since arriving at the Walkway, Carth released his grip on the blaster. He shook Holdan's hand.

"Carth. It's good to meet you." Carth hadn't wanted to give his real name to these criminals, but the Exchange had fingers in every record-keeping service in the galaxy. It was better to be honest with them than to lie and get caught. Besides, the Exchange was no friend to the Sith, especially when the quarantine cutting into their business.

"We'll see if it is. You pulled me away from a dejarik game in the back. This better not be a waste of time." Holdan put emphasis on almost every word as he spoke, sounding like someone trying hard to appear tough.

Carth rested his hand on his hip. He could have the blaster out in the blink of an eye if he needed. "Don't worry, I've got the credits."

Holdan smirked, wrinkling his scar. "I wouldn't have set up this meeting if you didn't, Carth." He looked to the two Weequay gambling at the table and shook his head. "I'm guessing those lazy aliens didn't search you. I'll need to pat you down before you can see Zax. Arms at your side." Carth did what he was told. Holdan started the patdown with his arms.

"I've got a blaster on my right hip," Carth warned him. Holdan nodded, reaching in and grabbing it. Carth felt naked without it at his side. Holdan stared at it for a moment, then stomped over to the table where the Weequay were gambling. He slammed the gun down in front of the Weequay guards, knocking one of the dice to the floor.

"I wouldn't have to be doing this if you two did you jobs," he said, still putting force behind nearly every word. The guards barely looked up at him, continuing their dice game without the one that had rolled under a chair. Holdan turned and gestured Carth towards the door. "Zax is this way."

Carth followed the Exchange agent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the Weequay take his pistol and place it next to their own guns on the floor.

Holdan led him into the back room of the shop. A long time ago, this room would have had shelves along all four walls and housed the shopkeeper's inventory. Now, it was home to a Hutt, and the only furnishing was a dejarik table.

A Trandoshan leaned against the wall staring at the game board in front of him. The holograms sat patiently, waiting for someone to make a move.

Zax was resting on a mat against the far wall. The Hutt sat under the only light in the windowless room, slurping some live animal down. He had a large bowl of whatever they were near him. Water splashed onto the floor as he grabbed another one.

"«Is this the Republic Officer?»" The Hutt spoke. His voice was guttural, and the long words of the Huttese language didn't make it any less ugly. He slurped down another animal while he waited for an answer. From what Carth had been told, the Hutt wasn't actually an Exchange boss, but he was treated like one. He acted like one, too.

"This is Captain Carth Onasi. Gurney contacted us for him." Or Zelka had used Gurney's console to contact them for him. "He's looking to buy some idents to get past the Sith barriers to the Lower City."

Carth could feel the large, yellow eyes of the Hutt scan him up and down as he swallowed his meal. The slug belched and laughed. And Carth thought the Hutt's voice sounded ugly. "«What does a Republic soldier want to get into the lower city for? »" he asked, sliding off his mat and towards Carth. "«There's nothing down there for you but gangs and beasts. »"

"Why I need to get down there isn't important. I've got the credits, if that's what you want to know. But, Holdan said you already knew that." He kept a straight face as the slug came right up to him, practically breathing into his face. Zax laughed, again.

"«This one knows our language. I don't care why you want to go down there. So long as you don't hurt our operations. And you've got the credits. »"

Carth took this as a signal and reached into the pocket on the inside of the jacket. He pulled out a handful of the small, metal bars. He'd had the foresight to wire money to Zelka from his own Republic accounts before the Sith occupation had started tracking off-planet communications. The doctor cashed it out at the bank the next day for him.

Zax snatched the credits from Carth. His hand was coarse and covered in something sticky. Carth wiped the slime off on his pants.

The Trandoshan in the corner made his move on the dejarik board while Zax examined the credits. Holdan looked over to see one of his holographic pieces being beaten to a pulp, though he didn't say anything about it.

"«You don't lie,»" the Hutt said, after studying the credits at length. "«Give him the identification papers. And finish your game, I'm expecting my share when you lose, Holdan.»"

Holdan smirked, "You'll be disappointed."

Carth waited while the Hutt made his way back to his mat with his credits. Holdan walked to the table and pressed a button on the dejarik board. Instead of making a move, though, the holograms disappeared. A small compartment on the underside of the table clicked open and Holdan reached in, pulling out several papers.

"Ident paperwork," he said, "These should get you past any Sith checkpoints." He pressed the button again and the compartment closed. The holograms reappeared in their previous positions.

This was good. Carth had been cynical about how this meeting would turn out. He'd half-expected the criminals to shoot at him before he'd even entered the building. The thought that he would successfully get the idents without any setbacks hadn't really even crossed his mind as a possibility.

Holdan stood for a moment by the table, examining the positions of the pieces on the dejarik board. He began saying his move out loud, "Strider to-"

A loud noise erupted in the front room. Carth recognized the sound as a grenade going off.

All four of them, Carth and the three Exchange thugs, snapped around toward the door. Only the Trandoshan held a weapon. Carth backed up to the corner of the room farthest from the door, standing almost behind Zax.

They heard shouting and several blaster shots from beyond the door. The Trandoshan slowly moved forward, while Holdan ducked behind the table. The Hutt was yelling his guttural voice practically a squeal. He ordered the Trandoshan to move faster, to go outside and see what had happened. The lizard ignored him, though, standing with his rifle pointed at the dead center of the door.

The blaster shots stopped for a moment. One of the Weequay in the other room shouted something, but the sound of another blaster bolt drowned him out. Then there was only silence from the other room.

The door opened slowly, though no one entered. A woman screamed something unintelligible, and a moment later she tumbled forward through the doorway, landing face down at the Trandoshan's feet. The alien kept his rifle on the door, but placed one of his large, circular feet onto the person's back, holding her down.

"Get off!" the woman shouted. She tried to lift herself up, but the Trandoshan shoved her back onto the floor with his foot.

A second voice came through the door, "You heard the lady. Put the gun down." This time, the Trandoshan did what he was told, moving his foot off of her and backing away from the woman.

Through the doorway came a man who made Holdan look tall. Other than his face, he was covered head-to-toe in armor, weapons, and a blue trench coat. Even his head was covered by a thick, white cap, and small goggles covered his eyes. He held a large pistol in each hand, though he let them point down into the floor. "I'm here to collect on a bounty."

The obvious tension of the room's other occupants seemed to ease, but Carth stayed on edge. This was exactly the kind of situation he had been hoping to avoid. He didn't move from his corner of the room, keeping the Hutt between the short bounty hunter and himself.

Zax spoke first, "«Calo, why always with the violence? Can't you leave my guards be?»"

The bounty hunter holstered his blaster. "Tell them to let me in when I ask, and there wouldn't be any problems. Now, are you going to pay me, or does this girl get to go back to her apartment?" The woman had managed to stand by now, and Carth saw that her hands were bound by a restraining device. She glared at the man who had brought her here and cursed at him.

"«You will get your pay, »" Zax said, laughing at the woman's words. "«This is Holdan's bounty, after all. »" The Hutt gestured to the man who'd been hiding behind the dejarik table.

Holdan opened the hidden compartment in the table, where Carth's idents had come from, and reached inside. He retrieved a small bag, and tossed it to Calo. The bounty hunter didn't attempt to catch it, taking a step back to let it land at his feet.

"Thank you for this," Holdan said "it was an insult to the Exchange for her to continue walking around unpunished."

"The only insult was-" the woman began to say, but the Trandoshan grabbed her by the arm and violently tossed her to the ground before she could finish the thought.

Calo bent over and picked up his bag of credits. "Watch yourself, Holdan, this one's sharp. Though, I guess you already know that." The bounty hunter snickered and the tapped his cheek, the same spot where Holdan had the scar on his face. "If you're done with your petty revenge, I'll be going. Davik has some actual work for me to take care of." He stuffed the bag into one of the pockets of his blue jacket and turned to leave. "Get some new guards," he said on his way through the door.

The rest of the occupants in the room stayed silent until the blue-clad figure had completely disappeared through the building's entrace. The woman stood, again, now in the center of the room. Holdan walked towards her and softly placed a hand on her shoulder. He was still holding the ident papers in his other hand.

"I'm sorry about this, but you know that I can't allow you to get away with cutting an agent of the Exchange in public. Not good for the image."

"If you didn't want to be cut, you should have backed off when I told you to," she said. Holdan took his hand off her shoulder and punched her in the stomach. She leaned forward and covered where she'd been struck. Zax laughed, making awful belching noises as he reached for another of the creatures he called food.

Carth watched from behind the Hutt as Holdan pushed the woman back to the ground. She struggled to regain her feet with the restraints around her arms. When Holdan walked over to push her again, she spit in his face. The Hutt laughed even harder at that, dropping his food to the ground. It writhed and squirmed at the base of Zax's body. A hissing noise from near the entryway must have meant the Trandoshan found Holdan's troubles funny, as well.

"«She has some fight in her, this Dia.»" Zax said while continuing to laugh, "«Maybe she should have your job,»" The Hutt seemed amused by the entire situation.

Holdan was dumbfounded by the woman's defiance and humiliated by his boss's reaction. He took several steps towards the Hutt, before thinking better of whatever action he'd planned and backpedaling towards the woman again. She'd managed to stand, but Holdan shoved her towards the wall. "I'll show her what happens to someone who attacks a member of the Exchange."

Carth had seen enough. "What are you going to do with her?" Holdan turned to him, it looked like he'd almost forgotten Carth was still in the room.

"That's none of your business, off-worlder," he answered. "Suffice it to say that she'll pay for her crimes. Now take your idents and go, we've got Exchange business to attend to here." The man held the papers out for Carth to come and retrieve.

Carth didn't move. With the guards in the other room dead or incapacitated by the bounty hunter, the Trandoshan's rifle was the only blaster in the shop. Aside from the one hidden in Carth's boot.

It hadn't been his plan to make enemies of the Exchange today. With the Sith already on the lookout for Republic soldiers, the last thing he, and Gaius, needed were criminals like these chasing them down. But he wasn't going to just leave the woman here, either.

In one, fluid motion, Carth kneeled and grabbed the blaster from his boot, shoving the barrel into the back of Zax's head. Any humor the Hutt seemed to have found in the situation immediately vanished as he felt the metal of the weapon pressing against his back. Any chance of peacefully purchasing the idents had completely disappeared.

"«What is this!?»" the Hutt screamed, "«You know who I am! Holdan, you didn't take away his weapons! Shoot him, shoot him!»" Zax managed to address almost every person in the room in his tirade. The Hutt's voice was a practical screech, and Carth winced just at the sound of it.

"She's leaving with me," Carth said, staying calm. The Trandoshan pointed his rifle in Carth's direction, but there was no way for the lizard to get a clear shot. The Hutt was too large.

Holdan was, again, dumbfounded. It was his fault for not finding the gun. He'd cut his pat-down of Carth short to yell at the now-deceased Weequay. "You can't do this. Davik will stick you in a torture cell for threatening Zax." Holdan sounded almost scarred. He didn't sound nearly as forceful when he wasn't in the position of power.

"I'll risk it." Carth pressed the gun a little harder into the Hutt's head. "Now bring me the papers and take of her restraints." Holdan didn't react.

"«Do it,»" Zax ordered. The guttural sounds of his voice were still several pitches higher than his normal voice. Holdan obeyed, taking the restraints off Dia's arms. She immediately punched him in the mouth, right over the scar she'd given him. The Trandoshan by the door turned his blaster toward her for a moment, before apparently realized it was more important to keep aiming at the man pointing a pistol at his boss.

"Give her the papers, and he needs to leave his weapon by the door," Carth commanded. The Hutt nodded – or made the equivalent gesture, as the Hutt had no neck – and his subordinates obeyed Carth's order. The Trandoshan leaned his blaster against the wall with its butt on the ground and Holdan handed the papers to Dia. They both walked over to the far corner of the room.

Carth pulled the gun away from Zax's head. He had no plans to shoot anyone if he didn't have to, even Exchange lowlifes. Stepping over the Hutt's tail, he backed his way to Dia, keeping the gun strained on Zax the entire time. "Let's go," he told her.

Wordlessly, she led him out the door, grabbing the Trandoshan's rifle on the way out. In the next room, Carth grabbed his other blaster from under the table, where the Weequay had been gambling. A large, black mark on the floor indicated where a grenade had been thrown. He guessed the bounty hunter had stunned the guards with a flash grenade before shooting them. The bodies of the three Weequay were strewn around the room. From the lack of fresh blast marks on the walls, they hadn't put up much of a fight.

Stepping outside, Carth scanned around. They could make a run his speeder. He'd parked it near the end of the Walkway, where there was still enough sublight to scare away any would-be thieves. Hopefully, that had been enough of a deterrent and it was still where he left it. Carth started jogging for that direction, but the woman didn't follow.

"Thank you," Dia said, handing him the ident papers. "But you shouldn't have done that." For someone who'd taken the beating she had, the woman seemed remarkably unfazed.

"I didn't have choice," Carth holstered his blaster and took the idents from her hand, "I couldn't just leave you back there."

"You should have left me." This was wasting time, they needed to go before Zax or Holdan called their friends. "They were just going to beat up on me for a little while before letting me go. With the Exchange, that's about as good as you can hope for."

"Doesn't sound like a good deal."

"It is compared to what's in store for you. Zax is going to have every bounty hunter on the planet after your head. If I were you, I'd hole up somewhere they'd never find me." She spoke oddly straightforward for someone who had just had the bounty on her head collected.

"And where might that be?" Carth was aware of the consequences his actions would bring, but he hadn't given them much thought until now.

"I don't know if there is any place you can hide. Especially if Calo Nord is looking for you. Calo's collected bounties on men who faked their deaths and thought they'd gotten away. Wherever you are, he'll find you." She started walking briskly in the direction opposite Carth had started leading her. "Thank you for your help, but I'm not going with you. Not with the trouble heading your way."

Carth didn't blame her. "Thanks for the advice," he said as she ran off in the other direction. Hopefully, she was exaggerating, but either way, it didn't change anything. Carth had made enemies of the Exchange, but his mission was to find Bastila. He could worry about these thugs when he knew she was safe.

Carth sprinted towards his speeder, ignoring the watchful eyes of the Western Market Walkway residents. At least he had the fake idents to get into the Lower City. From there, they could keep going down to the surface and search through the crashed escape pods. With a little luck, Bastila wouldn't have strayed too far from them. They still had to find a way to break the Sith's quarantine, but that was another problem for another time. No use worrying about it before finding the Jedi.

As he reached the speeder, Carth's thoughts turned to the Ensign waiting for him at the apartment. This was likely the last time he'd be able to accomplish something while leaving him behind. Gaius was still an unknown right now, and Carth hated unknowns. Still, he was the only survivor from the _Endar Spire_ strong enough to survive their crash. The ensign was also the only ally he had besides Zelka, and they were keeping the doctor out of their search for Bastila from this point out. Carth would have to make sure Gaius didn't stay an unknown for long.


	5. Gamblers & Drunks

**Chapter 4: Gamblers and Drunks**

"Add three. That's nineteen and I stand." Gaius laid the blue card on the pazaak table and took a sip from the glass of ale in front of him. The Tarisians brewed it strong.

Across the table, the old man scratched his receding hairline before pulling a card from a second pile. "You're a cheat and you know it," he joked, placing the card down. "Eighteen, off-worlder. Guess I'm feeling lucky." The game was simple; reach twenty without going over.

"Don't have much choice," Gaius had been playing the card game with him for the better part of an hour. He hadn't had a credit on him when he'd walked into the cantina, but Garouk had been looking for someone to play. None of the locals in the cantina were willing to play with the off-worlder, so the old man loaned Gaius five credits to start. Gaius had won eighty credits off of him since then.

He hadn't planned on taking so much from the man who'd loaned him the money to begin with, but Garouk insisted on playing. Gaius even made the first draw each round, giving his opponent the advantage. It hadn't helped, the man was simply awful at cards. He was also drunk.

Garouk pulled another card off the top of the deck. "Two," it took a moment for the realization to hit him, but when it did, the old man shot up from his seat, "that's twenty, off-worlder! Thirty credits, pay up!" He picked up his drink and gulped down what was left in the glass. "Drinks are on me!"

"The bet was twenty," Gaius took a sip of his own drink. He didn't bother telling the people around them that Garouk wouldn't actually be paying for their drinks. The man made the same proclamation every time he'd won a round, and the crowd had long stopped taking his excited promises seriously, and most of those around them didn't even turn to look.

"It was thirty, you cheat." Garouk sat back down and shuffled the cards. Gaius slid the twenty credits across the table to their new owner. The old man caught most of them, but four or five flew right past his drunken reach and fell to the floor. Garouk's chair leaned dangerously as he stretched down to pick up the one's he missed. While the old man managed to find his credits without falling out of the chair, he bumped a waiter on the way up, causing a drink to spill onto someone playing cards at the next table.

The cantina was packed. It was the perfect place to lay low after the incident with the Sith back at the apartment. In theory, anyway. Gaius's plain clothing actually stood out amongst the upper-class crowd in the cantina. Even in a place filled with gamblers and drunks, the residents of Taris's Upper City were dressed in fine clothing and jewelry. Those who weren't, like Gaius and Garouk, appeared noticeably out of place. It also wasn't helping that the man whose drink Garouk just spilled was now yelling at them.

The old man stared drunkenly as he was insulted in a thick Tarisian accent. The angered man had undoubtedly been drinking, as well. Gaius stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. He needed to calm the situation before they attracted any unwanted attention. The Tarisian quieted, but brushed the hand off.

"He's sorry, we're just playing a friendly game," Gaius gestured to the pazaak table. The back room of the cantina had a dozen or so tables scattered around.

"Hardly friends," Garouk added, "I was kicking your a-" he belched before finishing the final word.

"Friendly game or no," the Tarisian ignored the drunk, "my drink was spilled." He held up the glass so Gaius could see it was almost empty. The stains on the man's shirt indicated where the rest of it was. "This was expensive alcohol, aged for over-"

"I'll pay for it," Gaius interrupted him, "let me get you another one and we can call it even."

The Tarisian had the most peculiar reaction to this. He laughed, long and loud. Finally, he set his glass on the table, and now it was he who placed a hand on Gaius's shoulder. "Comrade, I can see from your dress that you cannot afford my drinks. You and he will both not be able to repay me. Now, you will stay here with me, while my associate," he paused and tilted his head towards one of the women standing with him who was holding a drink of her own, "finds someone to sort out the situation."

Gaius had to think fast. Having a bouncer drag him through the cantina was not his idea of keeping a low profile. "I'll play you for it," he blurted out. Now it was the Tarisian's turn to stare.

"Pazaak?"

"Pazaak."

The man stroked his goatee and laughed, again, as did his companion. She smiled, "Niklos is the best pazaak player on Taris."

"Then he's got nothing to lose." It wasn't a well thought out plan, but it had shut the man up, and might even have gotten Gaius out of trouble. Well, gotten Garouk out of trouble, but Gaius felt at least partially responsible for sending the old man over the edge of the table in the first place.

"I never back off from a good wager. It's a bet." Niklos took a seat in Gaius's chair, leaving Gaius to move Garouk. Gaius had earned all his credits from him, but the drunk had also been the one to spill the nobleman's drink. It was only fair for him to give up his seat.

Gaius emptied his pockets, and Garouk even contributed the twenty credits he'd just won. Niklos grinned, "Maybe you can afford my drink. If you were to play all day, that is. You may draw first."

It was masked as a courtesy, but, like the advantage Gaius had given Garouk most of the afternoon, drawing second gave the Tarisian the upper hand in this game. Despite it, though, Gaius won the round. And the next two. In the end, Niklos left nearly four hundred credits and one expensive drink poorer. He wasn't laughing now, having been entirely sobered by their game.

"Luck," was all he said, swiping his cards from the table before pushing his way through the crowd.

Garouk clapped. At least he was still drunk. Gaius counted out fifty credits for him – forty for his bets against Niklos, five from the original loan, and five for the trouble – before the old man wandered off, probably to find another drink.

Niklos was right, though. His winnings had been luck. More than once he'd risked losing, playing on only the feeling that the next card would be the one he needed, or stopping when he felt it wasn't. Most likely, it was the drink he'd finished by the end of their second match giving him the extra courage to make such risky moves. Either way, he'd won.

The woman Niklos had introduced as his associated took Niklos's seat, across from Gaius. She must not have been too well acquainted with the Tarisian, since she'd stayed behind after he stormed off. "That was impressive," her accent even thicker than the gambler. "I _love_ watching a good game like that," despite, or possibly because of, the lack of subtlety, the emphasis she placed on the second word made Gaius smile.

"I'm glad you were entertained." He scooped his winnings up from the table. "Can I buy you a drink?" Gaius held out a small handful of credits while pocketing the rest. The woman was young and attractive, with long blonde hair and wearing a dress with a distractingly low neckline.

Her eyes were fixed on his hand. "I was hoping you would ask," she leaned over the table and whispered, "I like 'em strong, and, _expensive_." She finished her glass and giggled at her own description of the drink.

"Well, I am a newly rich man, so I can do something about that." Gaius held out his hand.

"I'm Christya, by the way," she said, taking his hand. She left her glass on the table as they left the pazaak den behind.

Gaius had spent most of his time at the cantina in the back room. The rest of the bar was composed of a single, large room with tables and booths spread around. It was difficult to hear over the music coming from the three-man band in the corner. Breathing wasn't much easier, the entire place smelled like smoke and alcohol. Who knew what chemicals the upper class of Taris enjoyed inhaling and now contaminated the air around them.

Other than the scantily-clad Twi'lek dancers who glided from table to table and flirted with the male occupants, the entire population of the cantina was human. Gaius had already seen the way humans treated aliens on Taris. When he'd arrived at the cantina, the bouncer was keeping an Ithorian from coming inside. That was nothing compared to the preacher on the walkway near the apartment building, who had referred to the non-human residents of the complex as a "plague." He supposed the Tarisian men were willing to tolerate the Twi'lek girls so long as they weren't wearing too much clothing. Gaius eyed one of the aliens. As she passed, he noticed the table behind her was unoccupied.

"You wait here," he said to the woman, "I'll get your drink." The woman tilted her head and leaned onto the empty table, emphasizing her exposed neckline. There were no chairs or stools at the table, they must've been moved.

She smiled at him, "Get the bartender to mix us up something special." Christya winked as walked off.

Gaius had to push people out of his way reach the bar. The crowd was thicker here, with people ordering and waiting to get drinks. Considering the Sith occupation, there probably wasn't much else to do on Taris but drink. He stood between two occupied stools, pressed tightly against the bar by the people around him. The bartender ignored his waves, however, and he ended up with both elbows on the counter, stretching his head forward to try and stand out from the wall of people pressed against the bar. Finally, the server seemed to notice him.

The bartender was heavyset and patting sweat off his forehead with a towel. He was clearly overworked by the crowd. "Two ales," Gaius told him. The man nodded and dashed off to another corner of the bar. Though Christya wanted something 'special,' Gaius wasn't about to waste his newly earned credits on alcohol.

"Your girlfriend's found someone else, I'm afraid." The voice was from the woman seated to the left of where Gaius stood. She must have been an off-worlder, as well, judging from the lack of an accent.

"Sorry?" Gaius turned, shouldering another patron away so he could see the woman. She was attractive, though in a different way from the girl he'd left at the table. She had sharp blue eyes and brown hair tied back behind her head. More mature looking, but not older, than the girl he'd left at the table.

"Your date," she gestured with her head back at the table where Gaius had left the girl, "I believe she's made a new friend." He glanced to see the woman he'd led out of the pazaak den was flirting with another man, one whose clothing fit in more with the cantina filled with the Upper City's finest. It was evident from the way her arm wrapped around his waist that she wasn't too concerned with Gaius noticing.

"She was more of an associate, anyway" he smiled, knowing the woman next to him wouldn't understand the joke. "I don't believe she ever asked for my name."

"In that case what is your name? I'm Sarna," the woman reached out a hand.

"Gaius." As it came out of his mouth, he immediately regretted using his real name. "Pleasure to meet you."

"I'm sure it is," she grinned. "So, tell me, what is it that brings you to this backwater planet? I can't imagine anyone would be here by choice." Sarna picked up that he didn't belong as easily as everyone else in the cantina. Maybe this wasn't the best place to lay low.

Fortunately, Gaius had already thought up his story, and even managed to practice it on Garouk, though the drunk hardly listened during their game. "I'm a trader. Brought in a shipment of speeder parts on a freighter, but they were confiscated by the Sith the next day. Been stuck under the Sith quarantine since then."

"Well, I'm sorry for the inconvenience," Sarna's tone had shifted, she sounded almost annoyed, now.

The change puzzled him. "Why are you on Taris?"

Sarna took a large swig from her glass, finishing the drink before answering. "Sith assignment." That explained her annoyance. Gaius remembered the blaster he'd taken from the Sith at the apartment for the first time since he'd entered the cantina. Hopefully she wouldn't see it, or wouldn't recognize it.

"Sorry, I didn't know." The bartender arrived with his drinks. Gaius picked one of the ales off the bar and placed it in front of her. He didn't plan on returning to the pazaak groupie. "Care to share a drink?"

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

"No, I'm trying to get you drunk." She laughed at that.

"Your plan might just work." Sarna held up the glass, "To a short stay on this godforsaken planet," she toasted. Gaius took the other glass, and clinked their cups together.

"Do you make your way to the cantina often?" Gaius had never had the opportunity to have a conversation with a Sith before, let alone a Sith soldier. It was dangerous, and he shouldn't have used his real first name, but he was too intrigued to walk away now.

"They don't give us much time off from the base. And it's not a great place for us, anyway. Most of the locals don't want anything to do with the Sith, so it gets a little lonely off-duty."

"I'm sure you do something to blow off some steam," Gaius didn't want to probe into her on-duty work. It seemed like a good way to raise the Sith's suspicions.

"You're looking at it," she took another swig of the Tarisian ale. "Damn, they brew it strong here."

"They don't throw many parties, I take it?" Luckily, Sarna found him funny.

"I wouldn't say the base is the liveliest place in the world. And the apartments we seized aren't exactly large enough to fit enough people to do anything fun, though it doesn't stop some of the enlisted troops from trying. You've got to make your own fun, sometimes."

Gaius smiled and took another drink. The glass was almost empty, now. "Pretty upbeat for someone stuck on a backwater world."

"You've got to be," she said somewhat enthusiastically. Gaius wondered if all the Sith were this sociable, or if she was the exception. "It's all about attitude on assignments like this. Everyone on this planet seems to be in a permanent bad mood. Sure there's not much to do even when we're on duty; I mean, we've got a whole battalion on this planet looking for one Jedi. It doesn't help that the locals are a bunch of racists who hate the Sith as much as they do Wookiees, but you've got to find some way to have a good time. It's a lot better than sitting around being miserable like everyone else." The ale was getting to her if she would let it slip that the Sith were still looking for Bastila.

"I hadn't thought of it way. After all, it must be fortune you were assigned to Taris. Otherwise, you never could have saved me from a terrible date," he chuckled. Sarna rolled her eyes, but smiled, anyway.

Before she could reply, though, some drunk local trying to get a drink from the bar stumbled between the two of them, pushing Gaius to the side. Unable to continue the conversation over the man, Gaius downed the rest of his drink and turned to leave. To his surprise, Sarna stood from her barstool and followed him to the door.

It was easier to push through to the exit, the crowd was much thinner away from the bar and the drinks. Most of the occupants near the cantina doorway were seated, either eating or waiting for food.

The evening air was colder than it had been outside when Gaius arrived. The sun was beginning to set over the tall buildings, and he realized Captain Onasi would probably be back at the apartment by now. "It was very nice talking with you, Sarna," he said. It was the truth. To his own surprise, the brief conversation with the Sith soldier had been quite pleasant.

"You're not even going to walk a girl home?" she replied. They hadn't said a word as they were leaving the cantina, so Gaius was even more surprised to hear that. He smiled, though, and tried to hide his shock.

"If you insist." The ale must have gotten to him, too. Using his real first name was one thing, but walking right up to a Sith apartment complex was far from the way he'd pictured this evening going. Still, he'd already agreed, and would just have to find a way out of it without raising any of her suspicions.

The Sith led him down one of the great walkways of Taris's Upper City. The city was even more beautiful down here than it had been from high up in Gelrood's clinic. The buildings reflected the evening sky, gleaming in deep shades of yellow, orange, and purple. There was a stillness to the world, even with speeders flying high above them. The buildings stood tall and silent, as if they were simply hills covered in glistening chrome and glass rather than man-made structures.

The walkway itself was a work of art. The large, flat surface was patterned more richly and ornately than any street Gaius had seen before. Large, floating sculptures and the occasional plant were spaced out every fifty meters, further beautifying the decorative streets.

There were few Tarisians on the walkway at this hour, and those that were paid them no mind. Most of the planet's citizens were probably hoping to continue with their lives as if the Sith hadn't occupied the entire planet.

It must have been difficult, though, as Sith troops also patrolled the walkway as they passed. More than one stopped briefly to salute Sarna as they passed by, though she dismissed them quickly. "They're not supposed to salute an officer out of uniform," she said, "It could alert someone to who I am when I'm unarmed and unarmored." Gaius thought it best no the mention the hidden blaster tucked into his belt.

Other than the Sith troops, the only person of note the two passed was the preacher, whom Gaius recognized from outside his own apartment. The preacher was in a new location, but still shouting the same rhetoric about the "scum" and "villainy" that plagued the streets of the Upper City. Ironically, he saluted and thanked every patrolling Sith that passed him. Gaius turned his head towards Sarna to hide his face as they walked by.

"Off-worlders!" the preacher yelled. The two stopped when they realized that the preacher was pointing at them. His heart skipped a beat. He prayed it was a coincidence, and the man had not recognized him. "Have you seen the plague that has swept across our land? Have you smelled the taint that has fouled our beautiful city?"

Luck seemed to be with him today, the man must not have noticed him earlier. Otherwise, he definitely would remember the human who walked out of an alien apartment building. "It's not wise to talk about the Sith like, you could get into trouble," he called back to the man. Sarna chuckled next to him.

The preacher was less amused. "You think I talk about the Great Empire which has come to cleanse this world of its impurities? Surely you are blind to the alien plague, the Rodians and the Ithorians, the Duros and the Aqualish, the Bith and the Nikto," the man put a disgusted emphasis on the name of each species and pronounced half the names wrong. "Before the Sith, we had begun to allow the Twi'leks, the tail headed vermin, to own stores, to dance, and to roam the streets at night!" Gaius was reminded of the dancers in the cantina. He supposed it wasn't the only unclothed activity most other Tarisian men were fine with the Twi'lek females taking part in.

It turned out Sarna also had more of a sense of humor than the preacher was prepared to deal with. "We're quite fine with the plague, thank you. We have a vaccine for it now."

The preacher appeared flustered, unable to decide if they were messing with him or if they were truly ignorant to his message. At last it seemed he came to a decision. "Away with you, then," he yelled, waving his hand, though it was he who turned away from them before beginning another sermon about the diseased insects that hid in Wookiees' hair.

Sarna and Gaius both laughed as they continued walking. "I honestly thought he was ready to explode," Sarna said.

"I wish he had, it would have been more entertaining than a speech on how the tentacles on a Quarran's face corrupt our youth," Gaius replied.

"Or how a Rodian's antenna can read our thoughts," they both laughed.

The odd pair continued the conversation while Sarna led the way to her apartment. She told him about her family on Alderaan, how her uncle taught her to use a blaster for the first time, and about her time at the Republic Academy on Coruscant during the Mandalorian Wars. Gaius spoke lightly of his fictional work as a trader, about how he would catch freighter rides for his cargo from planet to planet. He talked more about his childhood on Deralia, how he was good with tools because his father had been a ship mechanic and his mother worked on droids for the local farmers. Those parts of his story were true, at least. Gaius became so caught up in the conversation that he had all but forgotten his plans to split off from her before they reached their destination.

The two grew silent as they walked into the shadow a towering apartment building adorned in Sith flags. "About our conversation earlier," Sarna began as they neared the entrance to the complex, "how it was fortunate I was stationed here so we could meet." It wasn't quite what Gaius had said, but that was beside the point. "It reminded me of something my commander once told me. That there is no such thing as a coincidence." He supposed the commander she was referencing was a Sith warrior. He'd heard a similar phrase from the Jedi during his time as a guard on the _Endar Spire_.

Gaius paused, "Do you believe that?"

Sarna shook her head. "It's a nice thought, though. Would be nice to know everything that happens is meant to be." The woman continued to surprise Gaius, taking his hand while she talked.

"It would mean everything was preplanned for us, though," Gaius didn't pull his hand away. Not yet. "We'd have no control over anything."

"I suppose, that's true. But, it would make life easier." Sarna smiled and tugged at his hand, "Come with me."

Gaius should have protested, but he didn't. Either the ale was still affecting him, or his curiosity was making him forget the danger the woman and the building posed him. Whichever it was, he found himself walking through the front doors of a Sith apartment complex.

The inside hallways were curiously similar to the building he and Carth were staying in. Each floor was arranged in a circle, with apartment doors on the outer wall of each hall. They took the stairs; Sarna told him the Sith weren't to use the elevators casually. A few Sith troops, both armored and unarmored, passed by on their way up, though they were all too focused on putting one foot in front of the other as they descended the narrow staircase to notice a Sith officer leading an off-worlder upstairs by the hand.

Sarna's apartment was high, near the top of the building. Gaius could see that there were only a few levels left to climb when they reached her floor. It contrasted with the long fall he saw whenever he looked down.

This level of the building seemed to be unoccupied. She'd mentioned back in the cantina that the Sith weren't given much time off, so it was possible only a handful of officers, if that, were ever off-duty at the same time.

Sarna opened the door to her apartment on the far side of the hall. The inside was plain. Undecorated, and possibly smaller than the one Gaius had left earlier that day. The bed was clearly visible through the doorway, as was the small sink which served as the kitchen.

Sarna released her grip on Gaius's hand and walked into her apartment, but he didn't follow. Gaius stood, frozen, outside the door, the realization that he was on the upper floor of a Sith apartment complex just hours after killing a Sith officer suddenly hitting him. Sarna turned back towards him.

"Coming in?" she asked.


	6. The Long Descent

**Chapter 5: The Long Descent**

The screeching sound of metal scraping metal pierced throughout the elevator as it began the descent to the lowest levels of the city. The rising sun peaked over the skyline of Taris directly in front of the large, glass window, nearly blinded the elevator's occupants. Besides the operator droid, there were only two passengers this morning. This was not unexpected, considering their destination. Few passengers ever wished to visit the Undercity of Taris.

Gaius could see Carth trying to hide a grin as they stowed the fake ident paperwork, the slight twitching of his light goatee gave it away. Gaius had been vocal about his skepticism for the Captain's plan. Simply handing their ill-gotten ident paperwork to the Sith troops guarding the large elevators that stretched down to the planet's surface seemed just too easy. Especially since Carth had avoided answering questions about how exactly he'd acquired these fake idents. Still, Gaius wasn't in a great position to argue with his superior officer that morning, after staying the night out.

Carth had been less than pleased when Gaius told him about his visit to the cantina, how he'd gambled and used his winnings to rent a room for the night. Luckily, the Captain mostly understood Gaius's reasoning, given the incident with the Sith officer on the lower floor of the apartment. That didn't stop him from issuing the usual speech about following orders, though. He had told Gaius to stay in the apartment, and Gaius disobeyed an order. Once that was through, though, it was all business. The Captain needed him; finding Bastila would be next to impossible without help.

Gaius could only imagine how he would have reacted to the real story. He'd decided it was best to omit his visit to the Sith barracks and his night in the quarters of a Sith officer.

Sarna's note was still in his pocket. There hadn't been a change of clothes in the apartment, and Gaius still wasn't entirely sure where his current outfit had come from. But, from the brief information about the Undercity he'd heard, it wasn't a place he'd want to bring new clothes, anyway.

Gaius had been able to shower, though. Sarna gave him access to her refresher, which was shared by the entire floor. It was hard to enjoy the shower while worrying that A Sith officer would walk in on him at any moment, but he managed to finish cleaning undisturbed. Sarna was gone when he returned, leaving only the note on top of his clothes. It was a simple 'thank you' for the enjoyable night and a way to contact her so they could see each other again. Gaius had no intention of using the communication info, considering the danger he'd put himself in during their first interaction. He felt lucky to have made it back to his own apartment building, and Carth, without any incident.

A slight pressure built in Gaius's ears as the elevator accelerated downward. He closed his eyes and popped his ears. When he opened them, the glass window and the skyline behind it had disappeared, leaving the elevator in complete darkness. In the pitch blackness, Gaius could see the woman surrounded in gold light, again, like she was standing right in front of him. She was there for only a moment. Each time he saw her, Gaius was more and more convinced that she wasn't just some dream or hallucination, though he didn't know how to describe what he saw.

The woman had come to him the previous night, as well. As he lay awake next to the sleeping Sith officer, he felt as if the woman was in the room with them. She glared at him with expressions ranging from anger, to sorrow, fear, and even pride. Gaius had stared at her as he drifted asleep. He hadn't dared mention the image to Carth, the officer was irritated with him, already, from his disappearance the previous evening. That conversation was better left for another time. And maybe another planet.

Somewhere on the ceiling, a light flickered on, pushing the darkness to the corners of the small elevator. Gaius saw that their view of the city skyline had been replaced by a solid, metal wall that raced past as the lift continued downward. Unlike the glistening chrome of the Upper City, this metal was shades of opaque grey, brown, and rusted green. There was no reason to have a viewport in the lower levels of the City, where the sun and sky were all but blocked out by the very buildings and walkways which made the Upper City such a wonder to behold.

It was louder inside the enclosed shaft. The main elevators, like the one they were in, stretched from the surface of Taris to the walkways of the Upper City and were large enough to hold several dozen passengers. This morning, though, the nearly-empty cylinder echoed with every shift or screech of the gears. Gaius could hear his own stomach groaning in the emptiness.

"You should have eaten more before we left," Carth glanced at him, "all that caf isn't good for you on an empty stomach."

Gaius leaned back against the wall. "I wasn't hungry. It was hard to eat when I was trying to figure out a plan for when those Sith rejected our idents." Carth didn't react to his joke, instead snapping his head to the side. Gaius followed his gaze toward the droid operating the elevator. The top half of the droid was identical to most protocol models, but, below the waist, it was connected directly to the elevator controls, its lower half acting like a chair for its torso. It didn't appear to be listening to them, and was likely incapable of much more than operating the elevator.

"Like I said, everything went according to plan." Despite allegedly being included in the Captain's plan, Gaius wasn't be let it on much of it. "We need to focus on the task at hand."

"What exactly is our plan when we get down there? Do we know where these pods are?"

Carth shook his head, "Honestly, I don't know what we're going to do. But, this is the closest thing we have to a lead on the Commander. We'll figure something out, and luck's been on our side so far. The Sith still haven't found Bastila." If Carth had been pleased with Gaius at all that morning, it was when he'd told the officer that a drunken Sith soldier at the cantina revealed they were still looking for a Jedi hiding on the planet.

"We'll need more than luck if we want to find her before the entire Sith invasion force stationed on this planet." Despite his words, Gaius felt unusually optimistic about their chances of finding Bastila. The Sith had a full battalion of troops sweeping the planet and couldn't find her. That likely meant she'd either found help or managed to hide on her own. It would be different for the two Republic soldiers. Bastila would want to be found by them.

On occasion during their descent, the elevator would slow and the screeching of metal on metal reached ear-splitting levels. Before coming to a complete stop, however, the operator droid would work the controls until the screeches died down and, with a groan from the metal, the elevator regained its speed. It was clear that the lift had not seen any maintenance since long before the Sith arrived on Taris.

Across from him, Carth had folded his arms and was now leaning against the wall. He was staring into the window-side of the elevator, watching the solid, metal wall go by. "Something on your mind?" Gaius probed.

Carth continued staring at the wall as it rushed by. Finally, he turned his head to face Gaius, "I'm not sure. Something just feels off, is all." That was a stark change from the beginning of their journey downward. The Captain had been nearly cheerful when the fake idents he acquired actually worked.

"Off how? Like we're being followed?" Gaius was projecting. He'd felt like he was being watched since he'd woken up in Zelka's hospital. And, it wasn't out of the question that the Sith knew the idents were fake and were simply gathering information on them for the moment.

"No, not like that." Carth stepped away from the wall and looked to the elevator door. "It's not being on Taris, it's how we got here. I've been running around so much the past few days, I hadn't given it much thought. But, think about it. The _Endar Spire_ was sent to a backwater Outer Rim planet with four Jedi. And one of them was killed Revan. That's not normal." Carth had started to pace around the elevator while he talked. He stared at the floor in front of him as he made small circles around the interior of the lift. "There's also all the crew changes from when the Jedi first came aboard, and the new personnel they started bring in. Almost all of the Jedi Guard were late additions to the crew."

"Like Trask?" It was the first Gaius had thought about his bunkmate in a while. A small pit formed in his throat as he remembered how his friend had died. Serving on a ship as cramped as the _Spire_ meant you became close to everyone around you. But they wouldn't be discussing the latest holovids or pranking the soldiers in the bunk across the hall anymore.

At the very least, Gaius was continuing the mission they'd set out to do before leaving the ship. It was just taking longer than either of them had expected.

"Ensign Ulgo?" The Captain's halfhearted laugh was the opposite of how Gaius felt at the mention of his name. "No, I'm fairly certain he got the appointment by being from some rich family on Alderaan. I was actually talking about you."

This was news to Gaius. "I was a last minute addition? No one told me that."

Carth shrugged, "It's probably nothing. Especially for someone with your scores out of the Academy." He felt a little flattered and surprised that the Captain knew his grades from the Republic Academy. It was little things like that which made Carth well-liked by his crews. "Like I said, it's just a feeling. I've had to learn to trust my gut on these things."

Gaius would have pressed further about the Captain's 'gut feeling', but the elevator's screeching had started to grow again. The lift slowed and the entire structure shuddered, but the operator made no moves to halt the process.

The foul stench seeped into the elevator before the doors even opened. Immediately, Gaius almost wished that the Sith checkpoint had prevented them from going down. "Planet surface," the droid announced, its voicebox crackling, badly needing replacement, "five hundred floors from the highest stop."

Five hundred floors. Gaius hadn't realized how tall the buildings of the Upper City were until he was standing at their base. The majority of Taris's surface was water, he'd learned, long since polluted beyond repair, so it made sense that the population had expanded upward on what little land they had. The operator droid made a motion similar to tipping a hat as Gaius and Carth exited. The ground was soft, squishing under their feet as they stepped onto the planet's surface.

Not only did the Undercity smell, but it was dark, too. The tall buildings and wide walkways blocked out any rays of sunlight that long before it would've reached here. The only lighting emanated from lamps placed periodically along the outer walls of the buildings and the undersides of the walkways above them. It took a moment to mentally adjust to the uncomfortably artificial white light.

Just outside the elevator were a series tent-like structures made from old rags and scavenged metal poles. Some of them leaned against the walls, the lowest floors of the tall buildings, so that the tents wouldn't have to stand on their own. There didn't appear to be any windows on the ground floors of the buildings. They probably were built without surface-level entrances to keep the inhabitants of the Undercity out.

The look of those inhabitants matched that of their homes. Huddled under their tents or wandering the rows between them, most of the Undercity residents were covered in soot or dirt, and the best of their clothing was still patchwork. Gaius had heard of the slums of Coruscant while at the Academy, where the poor gathered and begged. But, this was worse than anything he'd heard there. At least the poor on Coruscant were able to see the sun. Gaius had hoped his first steps on solid ground in well over a month would have been more enjoyable than this.

"Up-worlder!" The shout came from beneath the nearest tent. Out from under it came a man and a woman. The man was pointing a finger at Gaius and Carth, and the woman dragged a large, metal support beam behind her. She must have pulled off of some damaged wall, or it had broken on its own and fell from one of the walkways overhead.

"He's talking to you, up-worlders!" the woman shouted, tapping the beam on the ground. Gaius had been called by more names in the past day – off-worlder, up-worlder, whatever the fake idents said his name was – than he had his entire life.

"This is our elevator. You have to pay the toll." The man's face was one of someone wanting to pick a fight. But any fight with him, even if the woman helped, wouldn't be fair. The pair were dangerously gaunt, and Gaius suspected there ribs would be visible below their tattered clothing. The woman's weapon was thicker than either of their arms.

"Five credits to come down," she said, "and another five to go back up!" It looked like she tried to lift the beam as she said "up" but it must have been too heavy for her to pick off the ground with one arm. The beam thumped back down after only rising a few centimeters into the air.

Gaius and Carth glanced at each other. Neither bothered to reach for their blasters just yet. "The kind of planet where the beggars try to shake you down," Gaius remarked. Carth nodded in agreement.

The owners of the elevator scoffed. "We're not beggars!" the man yelled. "We collect the tolls."

Gaius couldn't help but feel sorry for them, even as they tried to threaten them into paying a non-existent toll. Both their clothes looked like rags they'd been wearing for ages, and neither had cleaned in a long while. Gaius reached into his pocket. The two beggars tensed. It wouldn't be surprising if more than one blaster had been pointed their way if they'd been pulling this scam for long. But, it wasn't a blaster Gaius pulled out, it was a twenty-credit piece, which he tossed to the man, who reached out and caught it.

The man looked dumbstruck, staring at the credits in his hand. "Credits, brother," the woman had dropped her beam and grabbed the man's arm. They both looked up at Gaius briefly, before running off between a row of tents. They brushed past several people as they fled, knocking at least one person over.

"That was nice," Carth commented. "Not the best welcoming committee for the Undercity, though. And not the best precedent to set down here." the Captain gestured towards several of the tents in the direction the siblings had run. A number of Undercity residents were peeking out of their dwellings, staring at the two up-worlders who'd given credits away to strangers.

"It'll hold them over until." Gaius didn't regret the charity, but, didn't appreciate the hungry stares he now received from the rest of the surface population. "Let's get going before we attract more attention."

"Agreed. Hopefully there's someone down here who knows where those escape pods are." The two soldiers marched down a row of tents opposite the direction the two beggars had gone. They were still followed by the eyes of most of the residents, but none bothered them as they walked by.

Those who didn't glare at the two up-worlders were focused on the small fires which were built in the walkways between the tents. Each fire had three or four people gathered around it for warmth. It was only after passing close by one of the fires that Gaius realized how cold it actually was in the Undercity.

The edge of the settlement was only a few minutes' walk from the elevator. A fence some fifteen feet high and solid metal surrounded the community. He was surprised these people had been able to build it. "What do they need to keep out?" Gaius meant it rhetorically, but there was an answer.

"Rakghouls," it was the woman from outside the elevator, standing behind them. Gaius and Carth both turned to face her. She looked down, sheepishly. The woman's expression was nothing like what it had been when they'd arrived. She appeared to be completely humbled now, the tough-girl routine from the 'toll booth' completely gone. "I… I wanted to thank you for the credits. I'm sorry we ran off like that, it's just… I'm sorry. I mean, thank you." She started to leave.

"What are Rakghouls?" Carth asked before she had gone more than three steps. She stopped and turned back to them.

"They're people. Well… they used to be." She was cautious toward the two, it was unlikely she'd ever had a peaceful conversation with 'up-worlders'. "It's a sickness. You get it from them and become one of the monsters."

"I don't understand. They were people?" Gaius had never heard of anything like it.

"People get scratched or bit by a Rakghoul and they start to change. After a few days, their hair starts falling out and their skin turns pale." Gaius wasn't too inclined to believe that people became the monsters, even if the creatures were beyond the fence. He focused more on the woman than her words. She had traces of a Tarisian accent when she said certain words. The speech pattern must not be entirely lost down here. "We lose one or two people to them every few months, but we still have to send people out to scavenge."

"Scavenge? There are people who know the area?" Carth completely disregarded the stories of monsters which transformed their prey. The mission took priority.

The woman appeared confused by the question. She likely hadn't seen much of her own world beyond the settlement fenceline, so someone not being familiar with how Taris functioned must be nearly a foreign concept. "Of course there are. Scavenging is the only way we can make enough money for food down here."

"Besides the elevator toll, of course." Gaius snarked. She didn't respond to the comment well, looking back down at her feet. It was a sad image, the unhealthy woman covered in rags and patches staring shyly at her feet. Her hair was unusually clean and brushed compared to the rest of her, and she was even more sympathetic for it. It was hopeless for a person to try and stay clean in this environment. "I'm sorry," Gaius didn't really mean the apology, she had threatened them with a beam. "What's your name?"

She looked up. "Shaleena."

"Nice to meet you, Shaleena," Carth said. "We're looking for a friend who we think is lost. Do you know anyone who could help us find her?" The Captain seemed to have the right approach with her. Shaleena perked up, "Of course I do, my brother's friend, he has all kinds of salvage, I'm sure he could help you."

"Do you know where he is?"

She nodded, "I'll take you to him!" Gaius wondered where the woman who'd threatened them outside the elevator had gone. Shaleena seemed all too eager to help strangers, albite ones who'd given her money. It was depressing to think about the depths genuinely good people must have to sink in order to survive down here.

As she said, Shaleena led them through the tents and nearly to the other side of the settlement. The community was smaller than Gaius originally believed, only a ten or so minutes' walk from end to end. However, there were more people down here than he'd thought would fit in that space. Each of the tents held five or more people, some as many as fifteen in such a small space. That didn't count the people walking around between the tents. Gaius wondered if the people had anywhere they were walking to, or if they were aimless, simply trying to get out of the tents.

One of the open tent they passed contained several young men, who were all covered in open cuts and bruises from head to toe. Someone, who was hopefully a healer, tended their wounds. Shaleena stopped and looked at Gaius and Carth. "They came back from the Upper City yesterday. They were lucky, most who try to escape up there don't survive this long."

Shaleena and Carth continued on, but Gaius stared at the dying men for several moments before following. The glistening beauty of the Upper City was a sham. It only served to hide the horrors just beneath it.

Their small group eventually approached the person they were looking for. He was a young, dark-skinned man, and he sat on some large, cylindrical container. "Shaleena, did you bring customers?" he asked. His voice was oddly high-pitched, and had a certain sliminess to it that made him seem inherently untrustworthy. Carth and Gaius were too desperate at this point to discount a lead because of someone's voice, though.

"Sort of, Igear, they need someone to help them find a friend." Shaleena motioned Gaius and Carth towards him. Igear wasn't very tall, which emphasized that he was not nearly as thin as Shaleena or the other Undercity residents. Hawking salvage must not have been terrible business, relative to the way the rest of the people down here lived.

Igear looked the two of them up and down, "I don't know any up-worlders who you would want to find. Are you with one of the gangs?"

Gaius wasn't sure how to answer, he hadn't heard of any gangs. Carth didn't hesitate, though, "We're not with any gangs. We're interested in the Republic pods that crashed down here."

That peaked Igear's interest. His eyes grew wide and he hopped off from his container. "Well, why didn't you say so? I've been looking to go exploring around those pods. There's at least one the gangs haven't stripped yet, and I can take you right to it."

"I thought you were looking for a friend," Shaleena said, ignoring Igear's newfound enthusiasm.

"Don't worry about it," Gaius answered. She squinted at him, as if trying to read his thoughts.

Igear was less concerned, "Who cares why they want to find the pods, all that matters is that they have blasters and I know where the pods are." He put a hand on Carth's shoulder, "You do have blasters, right."

Carth brushed him off, "Why do you care if we have weapons?"

The man backed away, "Because the Rakghouls won't shoot themselves! I sold my last blaster days ago, and I've been trying to find a new one so I can go out and scavenge again." A blaster was probably better sold for money to buy food and medicine down here than being used as a weapon.

Carth glanced at Gaius, and back towards their new 'friend'. "We'll think about it," he said. He motioned for Gaius to follow him as he started to leave. The Captain led the two of them away, without so much as giving Igear a second look.

"Is something wrong? How else are you going to find your friend?" Igear's questions had a desperate tone to him. Now he sounded like a salesman about to lose a sale. "I'll be waiting here when you change your mind!" Igear called after them.

"Carth, wait." Gaius yelled out once they were far enough away that Igear could no longer see or hear them. His superior stopped. "What's the problem?"

Carth shook his head. "I don't trust him. That same feeling as before. Something was just wrong. We're better off finding the pods on our own." Gaius couldn't believe Carth was ready to give up on their best shot at quickly finding the crashed escape pods. They didn't have the luxury of time, Igear had mentioned gangs had already stripped through them.

"Like him or not, that guy's our best bet for finding Bastila." Gaius agreed that Igear couldn't be trusted, but what choice did they have right now?

"Who's Bastila?" Gaius had almost forgotten that Shaleena was following them. "Is she your missing friend?"

Carth sighed. "Yes," he said, "and it's very important we find her." He turned to Gaius, "And that's why we can't trust that man. This is too important to risk on someone like that."

Gaius was losing patience with him. Commanding officer or not, he was ignoring the truth. "What's your plan? To wander the entire planet until we find her?"

"There have to be other scavengers here who know the area."

Shaleena chimed in, "None that will take you to the escape pods. They don't want to run into the gangs. That's the real reason Igear wanted to know if you have weapons."

"Who are these gangs? Why is Igear afraid of them?" Shaleena had just made the scavenger even less trustworthy in Carth's eyes. Gaius needed her to help convince Carth, and he hoped she'd realized that.

"Well, there's a lot of them. They're swoop-racing gangs from the Lower City. They come down here sometimes to buy things that we've scavenged, but something big like escape pods, they'll want for themselves." That peaked Gaius's interest. Now they were racing against Lower City thugs to find Bastila. Sahleena, however, kept talking. "They're also why most of us won't go to the Lower City anymore. There's been some kind of fighting between them for a while now, and almost all of them will shoot if they see people from the Undercity up there. I guess that's how their idea of a good time. It wasn't as bad when there was only one, big gang, but it hasn't been that way since-"

"Carth," Gaius started, interrupting Shaleena and ignoring the rest of her explanation, "He's already told us he doesn't have any weapons. He needs us to protect him as much as we need him to find those pods. And you heard what she said about these gangs. We already knew that the…" he stopped himself before mentioning that the Sith were looking for Bastila, too. Shaleena didn't seem like someone to turn them in, but who knew what she would do for food after her elevator scam. "There are other people looking for these pods, too. Now there's gangs involved, and they have a head start."

The Captain's body language gave away his answer, but Carth didn't stayed silent. There was no way he would ever trust Igear, and he was right not to. Gaius didn't trust him, either. But, they needed him if they were going to find the crashed escape pods.

For the first time, Gaius genuinely felt uneasy about their chances of finding Bastila. The Sith looking for her was one thing, since their only chance of finding her was sweeping the entire planet. But, now there were gangs involved, and they'd been searching through escape pods starting the day they'd crashed. He'd been right earlier. They would need more than luck to find Bastila.


	7. The Escape Pod

**Chapter 6: The Escape Pod**

A pang of guilt struck Gaius as he realized how relieved he felt to be leaving the Undercity settlement behind. The mere sight of the people who couldn't leave this dark place for fear of being beaten or killed was almost too emotionally draining to bear. Leaving it behind allowed Gaius to push the thoughts of their plight from his mind and refocus on their mission. Unfortunately, he and Carth travelled with a constant reminder of the worst the Undercity had to officer. Igear.

The Captain had resisted the decision to travel with the man for around an hour before finally giving in. After they returned and promised their guide any salvage he found at the downed escape pod, Carth had spent another hour checking through Igear's supplies – he'd started to pack before Gaius and Carth had even agreed to leave – to make sure they were properly equipped for the trip. It would take more than a day to reach the escape pod, because they had to travel on foot. There wasn't a speeder in the Undercity that hadn't been scrapped for parts.

Gaius knew Carth would agree to hire the guide eventually. Shaleena seemed trustworthy enough, and according to her, Igear was a sneak but overall he was pretty much harmless. Gaius had talked with her while Carth checked the packs. She was oddly cheery for someone living in the filth of the Undercity, though she was probably just excited that someone from the "upworld" was taking the time to talk with her.

Shaleena was full of questions, asking him about the Upper City, what it was like to travel through space, and about his own homeworld and family. She stared silently when he talked, sometimes closing her eyes while she listened, trying to imagine something as foreign to her as sunlight. The woman was clearly upset when the three men left; her all-to-brief time with people from another world cut short by their mission. The look on her face, as the gates to the village's outer wall closed tight, was the only downside to leaving the settlement.

Despite his support for their plan, Gaius wasn't enthusiastic about following through on it. Carth was right to distrust Igear, and letting him lead them through the Undercity was a sizable risk. But at least the man needed them as much as they did him. For the moment, at least, as long as there were rakghouls to kill.

The creatures attacked soon and often. It was hard to believe the grey, deformed beasts had once been human like Shaleena and Igear claimed. The small band stumbled upon one before the village gates had passed from view. It was wading through a mudpit when it saw them and began to charge. They'd stopped to examine it after Carth placed a blaster shot through it, though no one stepped too close. The rakghouls might not have been human once, but there was no way the mangy things didn't contain some disease.

The creature was bizarrely smooth, and its skin glistened under the florescent lights of the Undercity. Had it been any color but pale gray, it might not have been so sickening to see. Its long mouth stretched across its entire face, the maw filled with pointed teeth. On the sides of its head, so far down they were almost touching the edges of its mouth, were two small, black globes that must have been eyes. Small tufts of hair patched its head, which Igear said was an indication that the thing lying in front of them had once been human.

After the initial encounter, a Rakghoul or two would approach them every couple hours. Contrary to the boogeyman status they had gained among the Undercity residents, the creatures were fairly harmless to anyone with a blaster. A single shot to the chest or head typically knocked one over, and the beasts made enough noise that it was almost impossible not to notice when they were around. The sound the rakghouls made as they died could have been confused for a speeder engine overrevving.

After what felt like a day's worth of walking, Carth declared that they should make camp. The Captain must have been keeping the time, because it was impossible to tell day from night down here. The Undercity was in a permanent state of shadow and fluorescent lighting, the sunlight had been blocked out centuries ago.

Igear provided bedrolls for the group, though he slept in the small pushcart he'd brought along to carry salvage back to the village. The rolls were thin and hard, barely an improvement over sleeping on the ground. Gaius learned not to try that, though. He'd rolled off the bed and found that some dark liquid pooled wherever his body pressed on the ground. Standing, he was covered in a layer of soot and dust, a mixture of every pollutant and dead plant that had soaked into the surface of Taris, itself..

Gaius didn't sleep much, anyway, and volunteered to take over Carth's watch early. The Captain told him he should get more sleep, but didn't protest the opportunity to lie down for very long. Gaius leaned against a large pillar, watching over the officer and their guide while they slept.

The support column he was leaning against stretched upward for nearly a hundred floors before it connected with an enclosed walkway, one of the bottommost levels of the Lower City. The Undercity was dotted with similar pillars; a sparse, metal forest that had replaced the organic plants of Taris's past.

Gaius stared upwards at the walkways and buildings, wondering what was going on two-hundred, or five hundred floors above his head. Perhaps Zelka was aiding the surviving Republic soldiers, far above where they were right now. Perhaps Sarna was up there, thinking of him.

Igear awoke before Carth did and offered to keep a lookout if Gaius wanted to rest some more. Gaius almost laughed. He'd decided that the man really was leading them to the escape pod, but he was far from trusting him with a blaster, let alone his life.

Instead, the two stood in silence, Igear continually looking like he was about to say something, but never managing to get the words past his lips, while Carth rested for another half an hour or so. Once the Captain awoke, however, they were packed and walking before Gaius had even realized they wouldn't be eating breakfast that morning. His stomach growled. It was an odd thing to feel annoyed about his hunger after the starvation he'd seen less than a day before. And, whether he liked Igear or not, it was best not to insult the guide by asking if he had packed enough food for their trip.

The second day of their journey passed on much the same as the first. They walked, occasionally pausing to shoot the odd Rakghoul that had taken notice of them. Igear provided a meager lunch of dehydrated bread and something he only referred to as "the meat." Hungry as they were, both Gaius and Carth declined the dish.

Their next rest came when, at one point, Igear lost his way. Carth and Gaius took seats at the base of a support pillar while their guide made several loops around the column, muttering to himself. Gaius took the opportunity to rest his eyes, and, whenever he opened them, he noticed Carth staring in the direction of their guide. Though he didn't say it out loud, what little faith the Captain might have had in their guide was clearly fading.

Finally, however, Igear started jumping and pointing. "This way, this way, I'm sure it's this way!" he yelled. "There was supposed to be a pile of rubble from a collapsed walkway, but someone must've gotten to it since then." Carth's glare only grew more piercing.

Gaius looked back and forth between the two men before speaking, "Who would have moved the rubble? Other scavengers?"

Igear nodded furiously. "Must be, could be gangs, but I wouldn't worry," he ran back to where Gaius and Carth sat to snatch his cart. "No one knows where this pod is but me and my friend." Igear had mentioned earlier that it was actually another scavenger who'd seen the pod go down, but he hadn't been able to salvage something that large at the time.

Their guide started at a near-sprint in the direction he'd pointed them in, and Gaius took off after him, motioning for Carth to follow. Eventually Igear tired and slowed down to their previous pace, and they continued on for quite some time uninterrupted. Even the rakghouls left them along for the rest of the afternoon, or whatever served to measure time down here.

Gaius was not looking forward to the return journey. Even if they did find Bastila, there was no way to know what shape she was in. The escape pods had survival rations, but she must have run out of them by now. Or, if she was injured, they'd be carrying her back through the Undercity. He tried to shake the thoughts from his head. There was no use in worrying about situations that they couldn't prepare for at this point.

It wasn't long after the group began contemplating taking another rest that they realized the pod was near. Carth noticed the signs before the other two. A beam that connected two support pillars, had been torn in half around fifty floors up, as if something had ripped right through it. Not too far from that was a column covered in burn marks and large scratches, as if a large piece of metal had scraped across its surface. The entire group took off at full sprint when they realized what it meant.

Carth nearly tripped on a pile of uprooted dirt as they neared the pod's location. A trail had been dug into the ground when the escape pod crashed, and puddles of moisture were forming in its base. The trail lead straight to the target. Whoever was flying it miraculously managed to keep it upright through most of the landing process, but obviously hadn't been prepared for the web of metal that made up the lower levels of Taris. It would've been a miracle for anyone inside the pod to have made it through all of that unscathed.

Igear's eyes widened as they approached the downed craft. The guide raced ahead of both Carth and Gaius, pushing his cart's wheels as fast as they would go. He came to an abrupt stop, however, when an explosion of white light erupted under the front wheel of his cart. Igear toppled backwards and the cart was tossed sideways, its front half singed by the mine.

Gaius ran to where Igear lay. It hadn't been long since he'd been in the guide's condition, onboard the _Endar Spire_. Gaius reached into his own pack and pulled out a stim. Zelka had left Carth with more than they'd hopefully need, but it was good to have them on hand for situations like this.

Igear grabbed his head as he sat up. "No one told me anything about running into mines," he complained. Gaius suppressed a laugh "Who the hell put these here?"

Gaius patted the injured guide on the back and stood, re-shouldering his pack, "I'm guessing the stims worked." Igear didn't respond.

Carth walked cautiously to where the cart had overturned. "Whoever placed it, they weren't very careful," he said, bending over to examine where the mine had been set. He sifted through the ground, before standing and wiping his hands off on the side of the cart. "The loose dirt and water must have clogged it. It barely gave off half a charge."

"That was a lot more than half, I say," Igear yelled, louder than necessary, cupping his ears while he talked. Gaius was familiar with that feeling. It took a few minutes for the ringing to go away, even with stims. He helped their guide to his feet. Igear would be fine. Though he complained, if the mine had set off at its full capabilities, there wouldn't have been much of him left to complain.

"Someone must have survived the crash," Gaius said, turning his attention to Carth.

The Captain nodded in agreement as he scanned the ground. "I don't see anymore. Our friend might have been lucky and found the only one."

Igear's hands were still over his ears, "I wouldn't call it luck." He walked over to his cart, and tried to pull it upright, but one of the wheels had been bent by the explosion, so it tipped forward whenever he tried to balance it. Igear struggled to flip the entire cart over, and began stomping the metal wheel into the ground, trying to force it back into place. The soft ground was making that hard, however.

Carth and Gaius both ignored his pounding and carefully started making their way to the pod door on the craft's side. They both kept their eyes trained on the ground.

"Wait," Carth exclaimed as they neared the door. Gaius froze his feet in place. "There's another one here, be careful," the Captain pointed to a mine lying to his left, mostly-exposed on a raised patch of dirt that the pod kicked up when it crashed.

Gaius nodded and cautiously stepped to Carth's right as they reached the side door to the pod. The auto-controls had fried in the crash, so the two soldiers had to pry the door open, forcing it upwards. The metal creaked and strained, but eventually gave way.

There were no working lights inside the pod, and the opened door was blocking the Undercity's fluorescent lamps from reaching the interior. Carth pulled out his pistol and clicked on the flashlight attached to the blaster's muzzle. He waved the light along the walls of the pod's interior, moving it back and forth to cover as much space as possible.

What the light revealed was not what Gaius had hoped to see. The escape pod had been full when it separated from the _Endar Spire_. The bodies of Republic soldiers, still in uniform, were strapped into nearly every seat. They'd died days ago, probably during the crash. Gaius stepped further inside to get a better look. The chair in front of the pilot console was empty, but the front windshield was still intact. The pilot must have survived, at least.

The sound of Carth's boots came from the far end of the pod, and Gaius turned to search the rest of the interior with his commanding officer. It was difficult to walk through the narrow aisleway to the other end. Gaius could almost feel the hollowness of the bodies whenever his hand or leg accidently brushed by one of them.

Near the rear of the escape pod, Carth was bending over and examining a soldier lying on the ground. "I recognize him," Gaius said once he saw his face.

"Me, too. He was with bridge crew on the _Endar Spire_." It was the Chief who had been in the firefight on the bridge when Gaius and Trask arrived. It felt like ages ago.

Some of the other deceased soldiers began to look familiar, as well. More members of the bridge crew who had taken the same escape pod. The one person he didn't see was…

There was a coughing sound from the backmost wall of the pod. Gaius and Carth froze for a second, as if neither believed what they heard. Pure silence hung in the air for a long moment before another cough, weaker than the one before it, echoed from the back. Both men rushed forward, ignoring the bodies they brushed against, that before they had been so careful to avoid. Lying on the ground, under the pod's rear window, was the soldier whose leg had been injured on the _Endar Spire_.

She was alive, but barely.

Carth pulled out a water canteen from his belt and began to empty it over her mouth. It was difficult to tell if any of the liquid made it into her mouth, but the coughs and choking noises she made once Carth had finished indicated that, at least some of it had. She took several loud breaths before she managed to speak.

"Thank you, Sir." Her voice was weak and coarse, but Gaius swore the edges of her mouth lifted to form a smile.

"Glad to see you, alive, Private Koy." Carth placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

"We should get her out of the pod," Gaius glanced back at the rows of dead soldiers behind him. Even in the dark, it was haunting.

"Agreed. Help me with her, will you?" Carth wrapped an arm under the woman's shoulder. Gaius followed his lead, taking her other arm, and they managed to lift her onto her feet. She didn't put any weight on either of her legs, she was too weak to, so the two men had to contort themselves in order to shuffle her down the aisle.

The pod door had fallen shut behind them, and Gaius had to maneuver the Private's shoulder so she could lean against the wall – with Carth's support – while Gaius opened the door. It was significantly easier to push the door open from the inside than it had been to pull from outside, so Gaius nearly fell out of the pod when it lifted quickly.

It took a moment for Gaius to comprehend what he saw on the outside. Any joy he'd gleaned from finding someone alive in the escape pod evaporated at the sight of a seven armed men and two women pointing weapons at him, six humans and a Twi'lek.

Gaius grabbed his own blaster out of its holster and held up his free hand behind him, motioning for Carth to stay back from the doorway.

Igear was sitting on top of his overturned pushcart, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. "I told you they were Republic soldiers!" he yelled to the group behind him.

"You also said they wouldn't have any weapons." The voice came from the unusually large man at the head of the group. He was the only one not dressed warmly, wearing only a black shirt and a vest. His hair was a recognizable short, military-style, and every muscle in his body seemed to bulge and flex when he moved. A Mandalorian.

Igear stayed seated on his cart, but emphasized his words with emphatic hand gestures. "It's not my fault!" he screamed. "I thought they would give me a weapon to help keep watch at night! I would have taken their other blasters and walked them here. I couldn't think of anything else when they wouldn't give me one!"

"What is this?" Gaius yelled down from the doorway of the pod. When it crashed, enough dirt had been kicked up that the pod was slightly elevated from where the others stood outside, providing Gaius with a clear view of the entire group.

The Mandalorian cracked a smile. "Haven't figured it out, yet, huh?" He was holding one of the largest blaster rifles Gaius had ever seen. It was resting on his shoulder, at the moment, rather than being aimed. He probably figured the rest of his men had enough firepower that it wasn't needed. "You've been sold out by our friend, Igear. So here's what will happen now. We're going to wait out here until you realize there's no fighting your way out of this. You'll toss that blaster onto the ground and we can all have a nice little walk back to Davik's estate."

Behind him in the pod, Carth cursed. The name wasn't familiar to Gaius, but from the way the Captain was speaking, they were in trouble.

Igear turned around towards the Mandalorian. "I also lead you to salvage! Look at how this is completely intact! That has to count for something! Double pay, at least?" While the group was distracted by the traitor's ramblings, Gaius fired his blaster. The bolt flew straight through the shoulder blades of Igear. He stopped complaining about his pay and fell forward, off his cart and onto the ground.

 _Shouldn't have wasted the stims._

The Mandalorian hadn't flinched when Gaius fired, though the rest of the group had. Several blaster shots struck the side of the pod, leaving large, black marks on the side. Gaius ducked away from the door until the firing stop.

"They're no good to Davik dead," he heard the Mandalorian yell, "he wanted to deal with their Captain personally, so keep your heads on." Gaius wondered why they were interested in Carth, but he assumed it probably had something to do with those idents the Captain wasn't telling him about.

He peaked outside the pod, praying that the need to take them alive wasn't some trick. That Mandalorians weren't known for trickery in fights somewhat assuaged his fear.

The Mandalorian was holding a hand in the air as he ordered his men to lower their weapons. Once his crew was settled, the Mandalorian turned back to the escape pod, lowering his large rifle from his shoulder and holding it in both hands. "That was a risk," he shouted at the pod door, "some of my men aren't as calm as I am. And you're lucky that blaster bolt didn't hit one of them. Igear was scum, but I would've had to kill you if that was one of my men lying there. Anyway, you're still coming with us. Davik's got use for you."

Carth leaned on the wall next to Gaius, leaving Koy to rest against the back wall. "They'll turn us into the Sith," he whispered. Private Koy tried to say something, but it was caught between her breaths. The thought of being captured had panicked her, and she needed to calm down, or else she'd pass out.

"We're not going anywhere," Gaius yelled to the group of thugs outside.

The Mandalorian smirked. "We'll see about that." He lowered his weapon and pointed behind him. "You, two, quit fooling around with the tailhead and bring them out."

The man and woman to his right stepped forward, and Gaius saw, for the first time, that the Twi'lek's hands were bound. Gaius held his blaster forward, but the two ignored him and continued toward the pod. They knew he wouldn't shoot while the rest of their group had weapons pointed at him.

As it turned out, he wouldn't have to shoot. As the man reached the escape pod, he stepped onto the mound of dirt that elevated the pod and there was a small clicking sound. A moment later, there was an explosion.

The entire escape pod rocked backwards, nearly rolling out of place. Gaius stumbled inside, landing in a thankfully-empty chair along the back row. This mine wasn't clogged, and had given off its full charge. At least one of the thugs outside had to have been killed by the explosion. Gaius worried about what that might do to the Mandalorian's calm demeanor.

Private Koy had fallen over when the pod tilted. Fortunately for her, and less so for Carth, the Captain had been knocked over as well, and she'd landed on top of him. It didn't seem to help too much, though, as she was grunting and clutching at her leg. The same leg was injured when Gaius saw her on the _Endar Spire_. She hadn't gotten any medical attention for it after the pod crashed.

Gaius stood, wearily making his way back to the pod door. His ears were ringing from being so close to it, but physically, he felt fine. The escape pod was built to withstand more firepower than a single mine, so the three soldiers on the interior had been shielded. Peering out, the woman was now dragging the man who'd set off the mine back toward the group. Incredibly, they were both still alive, though Gaius could clearly see burns through his tattered clothes. The man wasn't making any noise, either. He must've passed out from the pain.

The Mandalorian was, again, unfazed by the new development, aiming his rifle at Gaius as soon as his head appeared outside. "Nice trick," he said, calmly, "now tell me how many more of those do you have lying around?"

Gaius genuinely had no idea. He'd thought the mine Igear had driven his cart over was the only one still active. "That's for you to find out," he decided was the best answer.

"Or," the Mandalorian started, "I can just toss a grenade into that nice little tin can of yours, and bring you back to Davik in a bucket." He was bluffing. Gaius had already overheard him telling his men that they were needed alive.

"How about you keep sending your people up here until they all look like that," he pointed to the burned thug.

"Big words coming from someone hiding in an escape pod," for the first time, though, the Mandalorian looked away and towards his injured ally. For just a split second, he appeared to express genuine concern for the man under his leadership.

"Don't antagonize them anymore than we have to," Carth had regained his feet and was now leaning against the back of the pod, helping Koy stand. "Do you know how many are left?" he directed his question at the Private.

"There-" Koy began coughing violently before she could finish the thought. She doubled forward, gasping for air. Carth strained to keep her from falling down. Finally, she regained some of her composure, supporting herself on the security bar used to strap everyone into their seats. "There's no more," she whispered. Gaius's eyes searched the faces of the gangsters outside to see if any of them had heard what she said. Koy was struggling to keep talking, "Those things got them."

She must have been talking about the rakghouls. They were probably the reason she'd set the mines out in the first place. It didn't seem like anyone outside heard what Private Koy revealed, but it wouldn't be long before they figured it out on their own.

Both groups waited silently, the Mandalorian pacing along the moist ground at a distance from the escape pod, scanning the ground for more hidden mines. The two uninjured thugs stood on either side of where the Mandalorian paced. One of them held the arm of the Twi'lek girl, though she was attempting to pull herself free from his grasp. The thug just squeezed tighter whenever it appeared like she was about to break loose. The woman who had approached the pod was tending to the man who'd stepped on the mine behind them, propping him up against the base of a nearby pillar.

"Canderous, is the bounty really worth this?" One of the two men said to the Mandalorian. "This was supposed to be easy." His comment went unanswered.

"Okay," the Mandalorian said, at last, not truly in response to anything. He turned and grabbed the arm of the Twi'lek from his subordinate. "Start walking."

"Like hell I am." Oddly, for a Twi'lek, she was speaking basic. She spat onto the Mandalorian's boots, but that only made him laugh. For a captive, the girl seemed to be more trouble for the Mandalorian's crew than anything else.

The Mandalorian gave the girl a small push forward with one hand. As she stumbled, he raised his oversized rifle toward her back. "That wasn't a question. Now move." Gaius held his breath. When she made it to the pod, they'd realize there were no more mines.

The girl glared at him before turning her head towards the pod. Her eyes met Gaius's. They were blue, like her skin. She took a step forward, and Gaius gave her a small nod. The thugs wouldn't notice; they were too focused on where the Twi'lek was stepping.

Gaius held his breath every time she moved forward. He knew there were no mines, but it was the Mandalorian realizing that fact which worried him.

The girl was about halfway to the pod now. They would have to think of something before she made it all the way and the rest of the gang followed. "Any ideas?" Carth asked behind him.

Gaius sighed, and he reached into his pocket. Suddenly, an idea came to him. "Stop!" he yelled to the Twi'lek. "Right in front of you, there's a mine." The girl froze in place, one foot in the air. She stared down, intently, trying to find the dangerous spot in the ground before placing her raised foot behind her.

"That's more like it," the Mandalorian said, loud enough for them to hear inside the pod. "Now, are you going to come out or tell us where the rest of them are. Otherwise, the girl can keep searching." His plan might have actually worked if there had truly been more mines. Gaius and Carth wouldn't have let the young Twi'lek sacrifice herself for them.

"I'm coming out," Gaius yelled. He placed the blaster at his feet and held his hands in the air. He took a tentative step onto the soft ground, near where the mine had lain a few minutes ago. The side of the pod was covered in dirt and fragments from the explosion, and a faint trail of blood drops led from the site to where the injured man now lay against a pillar. Gaius took a step forward to where the Twi'lek now stood still.

"What about your friend?" The Mandalorian was now pointing his weapon squarely into Gaius's chest. He was clearly done underestimating the Republic soldiers.

"He'll be out in a second," Gaius continued to walk forward with his hands up. "I have a proposition for you. How much is this bounty on our heads?"

The Mandalorian laughed, "You think I'm in this for some credits? It's going to take a lot more than a few-"

"How much are you offering?" the man to the Mandalorian's left asked, cutting off his superior.

"Listen here, you-" the Mandalorian, Canderous, shouted at his subordinate on the left, but he was cut off again.

The woman who had been tending to the injured had left him behind and approached the rest of her crew. She didn't have a weapon on her, it was still lying on the ground by the pillar. "I want to hear what he's offering. It's a hundred on your head. A thousand for the Captain back there."

"I'll pay five hundred, right now." Gaius said, stone-faced. He would have been offended by the price difference if the situation hadn't been so dire. "Take it, and you can stop worrying about that," Gaius motioned with his head in the direction of the injured thug who'd stepped on a mine, "happening to you."

"You're not going to-" the Mandalorian started, but was cut off again. He was losing control of his subordinates.

"I think that's a good deal," the third thug, standing to the right, said. "That's nearly half what Davik would pay. It's not like the Sith really care about them, they're looking for that Jedi."

"Shut up!" Canderous yelled. The Twi'lek girl started laughing, "You, too."

 _Everyone on this planet is looking for Bastila._ Hopefully, the rest of them were having as much luck as he and Carth were.

"Show us the five hundred and we'll leave," the thug on the left said. The Mandalorian had officially lost control of the crew.

Gaius lowered his hands to his side and smiled, glancing at the Twi'lek, who was still grinning over the situation. He slowly slid a hand into his pocket as all the thugs but the Mandalorian aimed their rifles to make sure he didn't pull out a weapon. The credits from the cantina were in a small pouch that he threw at their feet.

The woman rushed forward and snatched it off the ground, not worrying about potential mines she could've stepped on. She poured the credits into her hands and started counting. Gaius had nearly forgotten how large his pazaak winnings were in the chaos of the past two days. Once she finished, and appeared satisfied, it was apparent that the Mandalorian had resigned himself to the deal, lowering his weapon and shaking his head.

"There's more than five hundred in here," the woman told him as she put the credits back into the pouch.

"It's for the girl," Carth's voice yelled out from where the pod rested. The Captain was standing right by the doorway. Gaius wasn't sure when he'd come out. Why Carth wanted their Twi'lek prisoner, though, was beyond him.

Now it was the Mandalorian who laughed. "That's the first reasonable thing either of you have said." He pulled a key from his belt and dropped it to the ground. "You two are lucky that my men are greedier than they are smart," as if to prove his point, the rest of his crew was already beginning to argue over how to split the credits. Even the injured man was shouting for them not to cut him out. Canderous motioned to the key lying on the ground. "That's for her bindings. She's your problem now."

With that, he turned and walked to the group behind him. He reached the pillar and stood over where the injured man lay. Wordlessly, he hoisted his subordinate over his shoulder and led the rest of the group back the way they'd came.

Gaius watched closely as they left, making sure none of them decided to collect the bounty and take the money, too. He barely noticed as Carth pushed past him to grab the keys for the Twi'lek's restraints. The Captain grabbed the girl's arm.

"I'm not going with you," she said defiantly, "You can count on that."

Carth ignored her, looking the girl dead in the eyes. "I saw the way you laughed when he mentioned the Jedi. You know where Bastila is."

The Twi'lek's face lit up and she cracked a grin. "Yeah. I know where she is."


	8. All the Angles

**Chapter 7: All the Angles**

Her name was Mission. Mission Vao.

It was surprising how young the blue Twi'lek was, barely fourteen, especially considering how well she knew the planet. There was hardly a hallway in the Lower City they passed through that she didn't have some story to go with. Most of them involved some crime or gang fight, though other times she pointed out a hole in the wall where a speeder crashed or a collapsed ceiling where a bounty hunter blew up someone on the run from Davik and the Exchange. Mission knew it all.

Gaius, on the other hand, had been lost for over an hour, blindly following his Captain and their new guide. See one rusted, enclosed metal hallway, see them all. Gaius was tasked with pushing Private Koy in Igear's cart at the rear of their group. Carth walked in the middle, indulging the girl's stories. Interestingly, Gaius noticed the Captain's hand hadn't once reached towards his blaster. Either he trusted that the Twi'lek knew where she was taking them, or Carth had the same good feeling Gaius had since they'd left the Undercity.

Joining with Mission was the best decision they'd made. Not that they'd set the bar for that prize exceptionally high. So far they'd travelled half the planet, followed a guide who immediately tried to sell them to the highest bidder, and made personal enemies with an Exchange muscle. All without getting any closer to finding Bastila. Gaius had also spent the night with a Sith officer, though he figured that was cancelled out by whatever Carth had done to antagonize the Exchange in the first place. The officer was still less than forthcoming with that information.

But, finally, they were getting somewhere. Mission couldn't tell them exactly where the Jedi was, but it was clear she knew enough to be worth following. Apparently, some gang managed to reach her escape pod before the Sith or the Exchange, and they even managed to take her alive. Now Bastila was being used as some kind of bargaining chip in the gang war. The last part was still a little fuzzy, and Gaius had the impression that it was all Mission knew at this point.

The girl was a member of one of the Lower City swoop gangs that Shaleena told them about, but unfortunately not the one which found Bastila. She said her gang's boss would know how to help them better than she could. Gaius and Carth hadn't discussed how exactly they would convince a swoop gang boss to even talk with them, but Gaius figured that was an issue best left for when it became a problem. For now, it was important they get somewhere safe and find medicine for Koy.

The Republic soldier was in bad shape. She'd passed out before they'd gotten out of the Undercity, but Mission showed them to an elevator only an hour away from the crashed pod. Koy awoke when the elevator jerked to a stop on whatever floor they'd climbed off. The Private was able to talk and drink some water out of a canteen for a short while.

"We tracked Bastila's podded while we were going down," her voice was weak, and she refused offers of water until she'd said what she wanted to say. "I don't remember when we lost the signal, but it was after we were in the atmosphere. Me and the pilot… we were the only ones alive after the crash. Those creates-" she started coughing again as she became worked up emotionally. Carth and Gaius both ordered her to calm down and rest, but she didn't listen. If she didn't get medical attention, she wouldn't have very long, and she knew it. "Those things got Asaph while he was trying to get the distress beacon working outside. That's why I set up the mines, but my leg…" she didn't finish the thought, her words slowly turning into mumbled gibberish as she passed out, again.

Koy's blaster wound from the _Endar Spire_ looked several times worse than it had on the ship, and Gaius would be surprised if the Private didn't have to have the entire limb replaced. If she survived. That was in the hands of the fourteen-year-old Twi'lek, now.

They were putting a lot of faith in Mission. The girl hadn't seemed incredibly grateful that Gaius paid to free her from the Exchange thugs, not to mention that he and Carth hadn't even considered the idea of keeping her in the restraints. Mission seemed kind enough, though, and despite the attitude, she hadn't hesitated to offer leading them to her gang.

The wheel of the cart caught something jagged on the ground while they walked, and Gaius had to hold up both its weight and Koy's to keep the whole thing from tilting. When he'd finally righted it, he saw that Carth and Mission were stopped up ahead, talking. Either they'd just now noticed that he'd lagged behind, or something else caused them to stop.

"Hey," Mission said as Gaius wheeled closer, "I was just telling him, let me do the talking when we get to the door."

"She says the gang's guard has been known to be a bit… aggressive about keeping people out," Carth looked to Koy lying in the cart. "How's she holding up?"

Gaius shook his head, "We need to get moving."

"It's not far," the Twi'lek looked at the injured soldier. "Just, like I said, let me do the talking." Mission seemed to drop the tough front whenever she saw Koy lying unconscious.

She wasn't lying about the gang's base not being far, they'd barely turned the next corner down an enclosed hall when a woman shouted to them from the far end.

"You can stay right where you are. This building is off limits," she had an accent, but it was different from the ones Gaius had heard on the Upper City. Behind the woman was a door into one of the mid-levels of a skyscraper. Other than the guard and the building behind her, the hall was a dead end.

"Relax, Tana, it's me," Mission said, waving to the woman as she walked forward. Gaius and Carth stayed put. "Don't get excited, you wouldn't want to explain to Gadon why there's a new window in his hallway after your weapon goes off."

The woman hadn't been holding a blaster up, but there was one on her hip. If she wanted to, and was skilled enough, she could likely have a shot off before they had time to react. Gaius and Carth weren't about to point blasters at their best hope of finding Bastila in days.

"Mission, where have you been? We haven't heard from you in nearly a week." She sounded somewhere between surprised and angry, "Zaerdra was getting ready to send out a search party."

"They wouldn't have found anything but broken pipes and rakghouls without me. Besides, Zaerdra wouldn't waste time that could be shooting Vulkars." Gaius was completely lost by the conversation. No one had mentioned anyone or anything by the name of Vulkar, Gadon, or Zaerdra. "Now, you gonna let us in, or will I need to make a new door to go with the window you're putting in?"

The door guard looked to Carth and Gaius, "Depends. Who are your new friends?"

Mission waved them over, but as they started walking to where she and the woman stood, Gaius noticed the guard tense, her hand coming to rest on the blaster. Carth must have seen it, as well, because they both slowed to a near halt before making it a quarter of the way down the passageway.

"They helped me out with some Exchange blockheads in the Undercity. They want to talk to Gadon."

"A lot of people want to talk to Gadon," the door guard responded, "that doesn't mean we let every beggar who wants to thank him for what he did during the Mandalorian Wars into the Bek Base."

"We're not just some beggars off the street," Gaius stepped forward, leaving Carth and Koy behind him. Now the pistol was coming out from the guard's side. "Gadon will want to hear what we have to say."

The guard scanned him skeptically, "Really? And what is it you have to say?"

He should have expected that, and Gaius wasn't even entirely sure Gadon, or whoever they were going to talk to, would want to hear what they had to say. If this guy already knew where Bastila was, then he probably wouldn't care if she had friends. Gaius turned back to Carth, who was still standing back by the cart. His arms folded, but his blaster pistol was fully visible in the holster on his hip.

"Look, we believe that we have some things in common," the Captain started, "and we want to help. But I won't lie, we need help, too. Our friend is hurt, badly, and we can't get her past the Sith in to the Upper City to get her medicine."

The guard walked over to where Koy lay in the cart. She stood for a moment with her back to the rest of them and a hand still on her blaster before lowering her head.

"She's wearing Republic armor." Koy was still wearing her red and yellow armor from the _Spire_. "You're soldiers, aren't you? Was she in one of those pods?" Gaius and Carth both nodded silently, though there was no way for her to see them with her back turned. "The Beks are no friends of the Sith. And… we can use the help if you're offering. Times have been better. I'll com Zaerdra and let you in, but make sure to be on your best behavior. The Hidden Beks are watching."

"Thank you, Tana," Gaius said as walked around her and grabbed the handles of the cart. He pushed it to the entryway into the base, where Mission and Carth were waiting for him.

"What part of 'let me do the talking' do you not understand?" Mission opened the door for him.

"You were taking too long. We got in, didn't we?"

"Both of you be quiet. I'm doing the talking now." Carth walked in first.

Like the rest of the Lower City, the inside of the base was made entirely out of green and brown rusted metal. Rusted metal walls, rusted metal floors, rusted metal ceilings, and only a sparse few windows here and there. Even compared to the blaster-marked apartment or the plain Sith barracks, this was a far cry from the interiors of the Upper City's buildings. Only large yellow banners with some black symbol on it, likely the gang's logo, added color to the wall.

Despite the dreary surroundings, the base was a hive of activity. The large room was full with people of all different species walking in every direction. Each gang member was armed with at least one blaster pistol, and some carried rifles over their shoulders, as well. For a gang, this at least had the appearance of a tight operation. They even had something resembling a front desk, with an Aqualish standing behind it.

He looked at them with his large, black eyes and asked what they wanted in his native language. Gaius understood, and he was pretty sure that Mission did, too, but Carth appeared confused.

"Still want to do all the talking?" Mission asked, pushing him to the side. "We're here to see Gadon, bantha breathe, Zaerdra knows we're here." The Aqualish looked the odd group over. Gaius wondered what was going through the alien's head. Two soldiers, an unconscious woman, and a Twi'lek teenager made for an unusual quartet.

"«You shouldn't say mean things like that to your friends, Mission»," the Aqualish finally replied. "«Zaerdra already told me you were coming. She's in Gadon's office.»" The alien waved them off. Mission apparently knew where they were headed, so Carth and Gaius followed her, pushing Koy with them. It seemed odd to take the Private with them to see this gang boss, but they weren't about to leave her alone.

Mission led them through a large hallway that had been converted into a bar. A Nikto was cleaning glasses behind the counter, and a few of the gang members were seated at a table. Music played from a speaker in the corner. It was a loud dance number, but no one was dancing.

On the far side of the room was the entrance to an elevator with a manual door. Mission opened it to let Carth through, but there wasn't enough room for all three of them and the cart with Koy. Gaius waited behind with the Private while the other two went up first. He could feel the eyes of the gang members by the bar burning a hole in the back of his head, but Gaius resisted the urge to turn around, instead checking to see how Koy was doing. She was still unconscious, but otherwise didn't appear any different than she had before. Hopefully she would wake up soon so she could have more water.

At last, the elevator came back down. Gaius struggled to open the manual door and pull the cart inside at the same time. He had to keep a hand on the door to prevent it from closing, but needed both hands to pull the cart and Koy. Gaius tried to change positioning, to use the cart to hold the door open, when one of the gang members casually walked up and placed a hand on the door, keeping it open for him. The Nikto glared at him as he backed Koy and the cart into the elevator, whipping his hand back to let the doors slam closed.

When the doors reopened, Gaius was staring into a small room. Carth was standing in front of an office desk while Mission was seated in a chair next to him. On the other side of the desk sat a dark-skinned man. A swoop gang with a front desk and an executive office. This was a first.

The man behind the desk was middle-aged, and Giaus suspected he'd be showing his first grey hairs if his head wasn't completely shaved. The man's eyes darted to the elevator when Gaius stepped out, pushing the cart in front of him. There was something unnatural about the man's eyes. He was either non-human or they were fakes.

Whatever conversation he and Gaius's companions were having had paused when he arrived, and the man stood. Two women stood behind him, a human and a Twi'lek, and they followed as the gang boss walked over to the cart where Private Koy lay. He glanced over her before turning to the human beside him. "Kaeira, go find that doctor, Horn was it?"

"Zelka Forn," Carth replied from across the room.

"Forn. Bring him here. Tell him he'll be under my personal protection in the Lower City." He paused and looked to the soldier again, "And have someone take her to a room where she can lie down."

The woman nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, before grabbing the handles of the cart and pulling it into the elevator. The two women, a gang member and a soldier, disappeared behind its doors.

The man put a hand on Gaius's shoulder, "The Hidden Beks have eyes all over the planet; we'll have this doctor here soon." He held out his free hand. "My name is Gadon Thek."

"Gaius Starr," he answered, grabbing it. Gadon made eye contact with him as they shook. The small, grey spheres were even stranger up close.

"Don't mind the implants," he said, noticing Gaius's obvious discomfort. "They work better than they look." He smiled and walked back to his desk. "Zaerdra, go find some more chairs, we seem to have a lot to talk about."

The Twi'lek shot Gaius a look as her boss walked past her. "And leave you alone with to Republic soldiers?"

"Hey, I'm still here, ain't I?" Mission stood up from her own chair.

"I'm not planning on leaving you as Gadon's only protection." The two Twi'leks stared each other down until Carth interrupted.

"We're fine standing, Gadon," he said, though the tension in the room didn't ease much. "Time isn't much of a luxury at this point, anyway."

"Suit yourself," Gadon dropped into his own seat, "But, I'm afraid there isn't much we can do for your friend right now." He waved Zaerdra, who didn't appear done with insulting Mission, back to his side of the desk. Unlike Mission, this Twi'lek's skin was light yellow, though her lekku had purple and red rings, likely dyed.

"What exactly is the situation with Bastila?" Gaius moved to stand by Carth, "Mission didn't give us many details." The girl had taken her seat again, and she tilted her head towards Zaerdra when Gaius mentioned her.

Gadon sighed. "Your Jedi friend is being held by our rival gang, the Black Vulkars. They've offered her as a prize at the upcoming swoop race the day after tomorrow. It's the biggest race of the year, and they're hoping to gain new followers by offering up a Jedi up as grand prize."

"They know Bastila's a Jedi?" Carth asked, "How did they find that out?"

"The Sith haven't exactly been subtle about why they're here," Zaedra answered before Gadon could.

He held up a hand to tell her to be quiet, "The Vulkars are offering her as a prize, but they also think they'll win the race and get to keep her. My guess is, they're waiting until then to turn her over to the Sith for weapons." He shook his head, "Weapons that they'll use against the Beks."

"So, it seems we all have an interest in rescuing her from the Vulkars before this race." Carth leaned forward, laying an arm on the table, "If you know where she's being kept, we can get her before it even becomes a problem."

Gaius rested his back on the wall. As much as he wanted to involve himself in the negotiations, Carth was the superior officer, and it was best to only chime in when he was needed. Until then, this was the Captain's operation.

"I wish it were as simple as just going and getting her, but Bastila is going to be heavily guarded in a place where even my spies won't be able to find her. Odds are, no one but Brejik and his most trusted men are going to see her until the swoop race." Gandon stretched out and put his feet on the table as he spoke. His boots landed close to Carth's hands, nearly smashing them.

The Captain moved his hand off the desk. "Who's Brejik?"

"A traitor," Zaerdra said.

Gadon ignored her. "He's been the Vulkar leader for a while now. Used to be my number two before Zaerdra, but he decided I was taking too long to step down after I lost my eyes." Gadon pointed to his eyes and blinked several times. Gaius pretended to look, but instead focused on the ring on the man's eyebrow. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing the robotic implants where organic eyes should be.

"Look," the Hidden Bek leader began again, "I want to stop Brejik from offering up a Jedi probably more than any gang leader on Taris. I think we should be joining together to fight the Sith when they start raiding the Lower City, not fighting each other for their favor." Gaius admired his confidence that a bunch of gangs could fight off a Sith invasion force. It was courageous, but highly unlikely they'd succeed. "The truth is, no one is going to see that Jedi until she's being presented at race."

"Maybe one of your racers will win?" Gaius was tired of waiting in the wings. "We can work out some kind of a deal. You turn her over to us instead of the Sith, and we can make sure the Republic ends the Sith occupation." It was a bluff, a large bluff, but something needed to be done, and this gang member wasn't budging.

Unfortunately, Mission was already shaking her head at the plan. "Won't happen," she said.

"The Vulkars are going to be using a modified speeder this year. It'll have a prototype accelerator that'll leave every other speeder on the track in the dust." Gadon took his feet off the desk and stood. Despite his cool demeanor, the talk about the rival gangs seemed to have frustrated him.

"How'd you find out about that?" Carth asked. He didn't say anything directly, but it was clear he wanted Gaius to back off from the conversation after promising a Republic invasion of the planet.

"Our mechanics made it," Zaerdra answered for Gadon. "Vulkars took it a few days ago. Scum are going to use it against us, and know we can't make a new one in time for the race."

"I'm the one who found out it was them," Mission added, beaming.

Zaerdra looked less pleased, "You're the one who almost got killed pickpocketing a drunk Vulkar."

"I ain't a kid, Zaerdra," Mission was getting riled up again, "I can-"

Gadon raised his hands, something he seemed to have to do frequently. For a gang leader on a backwater planet, he had a politician's air about him. "Quiet. Both of you." His voice was forceful. Different from Carth's, who managed to come across as commanding while staying reserved. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can do to help your friend, and nothing you can do to help us. Bastila is going to be taken from wherever she is now straight to somewhere on the track. And, the only people allowed on the track are racers and mechanics. So, unless either of you can repair engines or race a swoop bike, this conversation is over, and you need to attend to your injured friend."

"I can." Gaius shot forward. It was a last-ditch effort to save whatever alliance they were trying to form.

"You can race?" Zaerdra scoffed.

"No, I can fix. Swoop bikes. Both my parents were mechanics. I can fix anything." This wasn't a bluff. Gaius's father had worked on engines, so he'd grown up around them. These were sure to be different, but the concept would generally be the same. "Set me up as a mechanic for your gang. During the race, I'll slip away and try to find Bastila."

The rest of the room sat still for several moments, pondering Gaius's words. He wondered who believed him, and who thought it was another bluff.

Zaerdra broke the silence. "That's a nice thought, but I don't think that-"

"It's a deal." Gadon said, interrupting his second in command.

"What?"

"I said, Zaerdra, it's a deal. Set him up as the mechanic for Phirk."

"But, Gadon-"

"No buts, Zaerdra. This is my decision." The Twi'lek didn't say anything further, but, from her body language, it was clear she still disagreed. Zaerdra walked around the desk and brushed past the group on her way out. Her back was to them the entire time, even as she waited for the elevator.

Once she was gone, Gadon walked over to where Gaius stood.

"You better not be lying, off-worlder," he looked Gaius straight in the eyes with his implants. Gaius resisted the "Because, if you are, and you're caught, we're not associated. You're an off-worlder who found his way onto the track."

"I'm not lying."

"Good," Gadon smiled and walked back to his chair. "Now, like I told Zaerdra, I'm setting you up with Phirk. He's young, but up-and-coming. You'll have to go to the race with him to get in, but once you're on the track, no one will care what you do, they'll all be watching the races.

Gaius was starting to understand why he was so quick to take the deal. "So, if I'm successful and get Bastila out of there before the race ends, your rival gang looks bad in front of all the other gangs. And the Vulkars don't even have a Jedi as a consolation prize."

"That's exactly it." Gadon's smile grew wider, "I've already told you the catch."

"If I fail, I take all the blame, and, who knows, there could be a miracle and one of your riders may still win the race." Gadon and Mission had overplayed their hand, there was no way they'd still be involved in the race if they thought their chances of winning were zero. Gadon was smarter than that.

Gadon laughed, admitting his own bluff, "You don't get to lead a swoop gang without knowing how to work all the angles." Gaius wasn't sure whether to be angry or grateful.

Carth had stepped away from the desk while Gaius and Gadon talked. "If we're doing this," he said, finally speaking up, "I want to be in the crowd. Just in case something goes wrong."

The gang leader shrugged his shoulders, "That can be arranged, they don't care much who comes to watch, so long as they're armed."

That was a surprise. "Armed?" Carth asked.

"Forty gangs who hate each other and no security? Every gang having a gun is the only thing keeping everyone from killing each other before the race even begins." It was interesting logic, but Gaius respected it. It would probably be more comforting to have a blaster on him during the race, anyway.

"I'm going with you, too" Mission added. She'd been quiet since Zaerdra left.

Carth looked between Gadon and the Twi'lek. "We're thankful for your help, Mission, but this could be dangerous. It's no place for-"

"For a kid? I already said I'm no kid, _Captain_ ," she put emphasis on his rank for sarcastic effect. "Besides, you owe me one for bringing you here. And I see more dangerous things than a swoop race most days, anyway."

The Captain apparently didn't have a comeback for that. "You can come if it's okay with Gadon."

If Carth was hoping that the gang leader would veto the girl's decision, he had no such luck. Gadon merely laughed, "I don't care what she does. And I don't think she would care if I told her not to go." Gadon was probably right about that.

The plan was settled. They thanked the gang leader before leaving his office. Down in the bar area, one of the Beks lead them to another room, where they were able to find a change of clothing. Gaius was relieved to be out of the same plainclothes he'd been wearing since wakung up in Zelka's hospital.

Speaking of the doctor, the man arrived less than two hours after Gadon's guard had left to fetch him. The old man was followed by two Beks and another patient who he said couldn't be left alone. He was oddly unshaken for having essentially been kidnapped by the Hidden Beks.

Koy was resting in a room that at least somewhat resembled a medical wing, though there was little in the way of actual medicine or medical supplies. Zelka tended to her with the supplies he'd brought, but the news wasn't encouraging.

"Is she going to survive?" Carth asked when they were outside the room.

"It's hard to say. She's been severely dehydrated for days, and there's some kind of infection I can't identify or treat without a medical droid." He pulled out a datapad and started writing something on it. "I don't have the equipment with me to deal with that leg wound, either. Even if we were in my hospital, she would probably still lose the limb. The things I need are too large to move down here without raising suspicion from the Sith, so unless you can get her past the checkpoint into the Upper City, I'm afraid there's not much I can do down here."

Carth cursed. It had been a struggle to get into the Lower City, getting back to the Upper City hadn't even crossed their minds yet. Not to mention that they needed to be preparing to rescue Bastila at the race in less than two days.

After a moment of silence, Carth started to ramble, "There's got to be something we can do. Maybe if we modify the idents, I'm sure we can find someone in the Lower City who knows how to-"

"Captain." Gaius interrupted before he could start to form an actual plan. "We don't have the time." If they were going to be ready for the race, and rescuing Bastila, they couldn't be focusing all their efforts on getting Koy into the Upper City.

They argued the point for some time, and Carth questioned Zelka at length about what medical supplies they could and couldn't get into the Lower City. But, it was no use. There was simply no way to treat Koy without bringing her into the Upper City, and they were definitely going to be caught by the Sith if they tried that. The Exchange had already identified them, and they only had fake idents for Carth and Gaius.

The Captain slowly came around to Gaius's side, after eliminating nearly every potential plan of action. As they finished their talk with Zelka, Gaius rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was getting late, and he hadn't even met the racer he would be acting as mechanic for. Probably best to wait until tomorrow, though. Mission said the racer would need time to cool off after hearing his mechanic was someone he'd never met.

Getting ready to leave, Gaius noticed the patient Zelka had brought with him from the Upper City sitting on a stool by the wall. He was a Duros, and looked unusually familiar. Then it hit him. It was Glin, from the apartment during the Sith raid.

The alien wasn't moving, sitting and staring intently at the far wall. "Glin, is that you?" Gaius asked. The Duros didn't move.

Zelka shook his head. "I'm afraid he's not responding to any stimuli. Someone brought him in yesterday, said they found him sleeping outside the Sith base."

"He must have been tortured there." Carth hadn't seen the alien or the Sith raid, but his theory was likely to be true. If the Duros had been caught hiding the Sith's body, there wasn't much on the planet that could have protected him.

Gaius knelt down and waved a hand in front of the Duros's face. His large, red eyes were deader than Gadon's fake ones. "What kind of torture could do this to him?"

"Sith torture," Carth's words were somber. "They say the force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your mind, destroy your very identity."

The Duros simply sat, staring forward. An empty shell with only nothingness behind his eyes.


	9. Out of Reach

**Chapter 8: Out of Reach**

Phirk placed a hand on Gaius's shoulder as the Vulkar guard looked them over. The Nikto's hatred towards the two men in Hidden Bek jackets was obvious, but the Vulkar wouldn't dare act on it with so many other gangs hanging around the entryway to the track. The Bek led Gaius through the security gate, and into a tunnel underneath the arena stands. The roar of the crowd was already booming through the opposite end, and many race teams like them had not yet entered the track.

Once they were a decent way down the tunnel, the Aqualish dropped the act, and any sign that he and Gaius were old friends vanished. He muttered for his new mechanic to keep quiet and to stay out of the way.

Phirk had been livid when Zaerdra informed him that Gaius would be his mechanic for the race. When it was clear Zaerdra wouldn't let him back out, he'd shoved Gaius against the wall and yelled so close to his face that Gaius could see the veins around the alien's facial tusks. It was only after Zaerdra ordered the Aqualish to release him that Phirk complied. He stormed off after that, presumably to take the issue up with Gadon.

"He'll get over it," Zaerdra told Gaius after Phirk left. "Gadon won't let him race if he doesn't."

Phirk hadn't gotten over it, but Gadon was still letting him race. Gaius imagined the Aqualish had put on a performance for the gang leader similar to the one he'd displayed for the Vulkar bouncer at the entrance to the track. It didn't matter to Gaius either way. All that was important was finding and rescuing Bastila. Easier said than done, but he didn't expect Phirk's help would be necessary for the task.

The passageway was nearly empty, as the guards only let in a few racers and mechanics at a time. The roar from the crowd echoed around the halls, drowning out Phirk's curses before he even said them. Even without the watchful eyes of the Hidden Bek's leaders, they managed to reach the end of the tunnel without incident.

As they passed through the tunnel's threshold, Gaius was struck by the sheer size of the arena. Large, leveled viewing platforms hung over open portions of the city for the spectators. Dense crowds stood along the tiers, which were each wide enough to hold most of a small gang. From the color schemes, Gaius could see that the largest gangs had pushed inward on the platforms, avoiding the lack of railing along the edges. There was almost nothing to keep spectators from falling over the sides of the platforms and plummeting to their deaths between the buildings of the Lower City. This was particularly dangerous – and likely – today, considering the amount of Tarisian ale being consumed up there.

The track itself was the width of ten speeders, and only a portion of it could be seen from the spectating platforms. It made a large figure-eight, with the racers' platform in the center of one loop and most of the spectators' platforms on the outside of it. The second loop was almost entirely outside of the field of view for both the racers and spectators in and around the first loop. Gaius obviously wasn't able to see the second loop from where he and Phirk walked, but Mission had informed him about the track design before the race.

The Twi'lek had continued to hang around Gaius and Carth during their time with the Hidden Beks the past two days. It surprised them that the girl would rather spend time with them planning Bastila's rescue than with her own friends. Not that they weren't grateful for her help, Mission was the only person who told them anything useful about the track. But, even her knowledge of it was limited.

Apparently it had been abandoned for some time, and was only being used so that the gathering of most of Taris's gangs wouldn't draw the attention of the Sith. The invaders had mostly stayed out of the Lower City, but they had enough spies down there to notice if all these gangs met in one of their usual locations.

Gaius and Phirk approached the racers' platform in the center of this section of the track. The stage was hundreds of feet high, and a lift brought people and equipment between the top of the platform and the track. As they made their way to the lift, they passed by several racers, who were down on the track finishing preparations on their swoop bikes before the first heat.

After waiting for the lift to come down, and several members from a gang Gaius didn't recognize to disembark, the two stepped on. For a track that had been abandoned for some time before this race, everything was operating in nearly top working order.

"«I'm in the second heat, so we can find my swoop and you can get out of the way.»" Other than the grunts in the tunnel, it was the first Phirk had spoken since they'd arrived.

Gaius scanned the top of the platform as their lift slowed to a halt. "We're on the far side," he ignored Phirk's comment and gestured across the walkway to where a number of other Hidden Beks' swoop bikes were parked. Some of the lower-ranking gang members had brought the speeders in earlier that day, so the participants would have time to prepare. Each racer was given a designated plot to keep their swoop, and each gangs' plots were grouped together. For a bunch of swoop gangs, this event was rather meticulously organized.

"«They better not have changed any of my settings.»" Phirk was rather personal with his speeder. The racer was reluctant to allow Gaius the opportunity to just examine it and wouldn't let him touch any part of the bike, even if something happened during the race. Gaius wasn't sure what he could do for it, anyway. Judging from the swoop's shoddy hydraulic work, Phirk had made a number of personal additions. He'd built it to go fast, and it would, but the bike would struggle on turns, even at lower speeds. Gaius recalled his dad complaining about how kids always modded their speeders for velocity and crashed when they lost maneuvering. His dad would've disassembled Phirk's entire bike and put it back together from scratch if he'd gotten his hands on it. The thought made Gaius smile.

Phirk's speeder was on the outermost edge of the Hidden Beks' plots. Unfortunately, being on the Beks' perimeter meant they were the closest to the Black Vulkars' section of the platform. Someone had made the regrettable decided to place the two rival gangs next to each other, probably hoping no one would try anything in this setting. Being so close to the Vulkars would make it difficult for Gaius to sneak away unnoticed.

The two passed through a thin crowd of racers and mechanics from other gangs on their way to the Phirk's plot, dodging both people and equipment being hauled across the platform. Gaius nearly tripped over a long, black hose that a Rodian mechanic was dragging behind him. Once they reached his speeder, Phirk immediately began checking it over to make sure nothing had been changed since the last time he'd worked on it.

Of the swoop bikes currently on the platform, Phirk's was one of the smallest. The thin, ovular cockpit barely fit the Aqualish's muscular frame, and the wings stretched out less than ten feet in front. It was definitely designed for maximum speed.

"«Typically, it's the mechanic that works on the swoop bike,»" someone said from behind, speaking Huttese. Gaius turned his head to look, but didn't respond. The speaker was a green-skinned Twi'lek, and, from the symbol on his jacket, a Vulkar. He must have been the mechanic for the Vulkar racer whose speeder was in the next plot. "«I take it this is your first race?»"

Gaius had no idea why someone from the Vulkars would be in the mood to small talk with someone wearing Hidden Bek logo on the back of his jacket. "Biggest race," Gaius answered, trying to brush him off. He didn't need this right now.

"«Well, a piece of advice, then. Stay away from your racer when he loses. Aqualish can be… violent after a defeat.»" Now Gaius turned around fully to face the Vulkar.

"And what makes you so certain we'll lose?" The Twi'lek was holding a plasma torch in his hand. It wasn't meant to be used as a weapon, but could be turned into one if he felt like it.

The Vulkar snickered, "«The Beks wouldn't place a winner so far away from their best racer.»" He nodded down the line of Hidden Bek speeders, to where another Twi'lek was getting ready to move her speeder onto the track. Gaius recognized her from the base; but didn't know her name. "«Or this close to the Vulkars.s»"

"We'll see how things shake out," he finally responded, "See you on the track."

The Vulkar smirked, again, "«I doubt that. This will likely be the last time you see me. When the day is over, and Redros is standing in the winner's circle, know that his speeder was built by Kandon Ark.»"

That explained why the Vulkar was in such a chatty mood, he wanted to brag. Kandon didn't wait to shake Gaius's hand as he turned and headed back to his own racer's speeder. If he was the mechanic for the Vulkars' best racer, then he probably was using the stolen prototype accelerator Gadon and Mission talked about.

With Phirk occupied with his swoop, Gaius backed into the walkway between the rows of speeder plots and peered down the lines. He didn't see anything other than what he'd expected to see. Racers, mechanics, speeders, and gear. He couldn't even begin to think of where to start looking for Bastila.

He reached for the com hidden in the neck of his jacket. "Carth," he said into the hidden device, "I'm on the platform. No sign of Bastila."

A few seconds of pause were followed by the Captain's response. "Wait until the first race starts, then start looking. That should provide some cover. Remember, we've got your back." Carth and Mission were somewhere in the stands. Gaius wondered if Mission would be any help at this point, or if Carth would let her be any help. She was only a teenager, after all.

Gaius ducked back into the plot where Phirk was making the final preparations. A horn sounded from the track below them. "They're starting the opening ceremonies," Gaius informed the racer. Phirk grunted in acknowledgement, but didn't pull his head away from the engine.

The ceremony began on the track starting line and was broadcast on a large screen hovering over the racers' platform. The Black Vulkars had tendered the grand prize, so their leader, Brejik, had the honor of starting off the races. He stepped onto a small podium and addressed the audience. The man looked like a younger version of the Beks' leader, but his voice was high, almost whiney, without any of the innate authority behind his words that Gadon conveyed. Gaius couldn't make out anything the man said over the sound system, which crackled and jumbled his words beyond comprehension. He wondered if it was any more intelligible for the crowd.

At some point, the man made a large gesture with his arm, signaling for someone to come out from the entrance tunnel. Gaius's eyes went wide, and he found himself walking forward, nearly stepping straight off the edge of the three hundred-foot high platform.

Being wheeled out of the entry tunnel were three cages. Slave cells. A young Twi'lek, Mission's age, was in the first. She struggled against the chains of her cell, but to no avail. The crowd, particularly the men, began cheering when Brejik announced her as one of the prizes of the race. The second cell held a large Wookiee. He didn't struggle against the cage as the Twi'lek had, keeping his face down, hiding it from the crowd. The crowd's noise was less cheers and more taunts directed at the poor Wookiee.

The final cage to be shown was what drew Gaius to the platform's edge. Inside it was Bastila.

She appeared dazed, likely the result of a control collar, and her outfit left far less to the imagination than her Jedi robes had on the _Endar Spire_. The crowd cheered for her far louder than it had for the scantily-clad Twi'lek earlier. She was a Jedi. And the grand prize.

Gaius held his breath as he watched Brejik stroked the bars of her cell and announced that the winner of the days' races would win her. Gaius's eyes followed the cell as four Vulkars pushed all three of the captives toward the platform. He could have sworn the Jedi made eye contact with him, even in her dazed state and at this distance, as she disappeared under the platform. Leaning over the edge, he could see the exact spot under the platform where she was taken.

His heart stopped. Carth's voice came in over the com "Did you-"

"I saw her," Gaius interrupted. His thoughts were flying faster than the speeders would be during the races. He had to find a way under the platform without anyone noticing. Turning away from the platform edge, Gaius found himself face to face with Gadon.

The leader of the Hidden Beks didn't speak, simply putting a hand on Gaius's shoulder and leading him away from Phirk's plot and down the row of Hidden Bek speeders. Only racers and mechanics were supposed to be allowed on the track, but he supposed Gadon had enough authority to get an exception. "I assume you saw the Jedi you're looking for?" Gadon asked, once they were about halfway down the row, out of the Vulkars' earshot.

Gaius nodded as they continued walking deeper into the Hidden Bek plots. "They took her under the platform. I'll have to find a way down during one of the races."

Gadon stroked his goatee, "You may need to change your plan on that. Did you notice the woman guarding the cells?"

Having been so focused on who was inside the cell, Gaius hadn't paid any attention to who might've been on the outside. "No. Was she someone I should be familiar with?"

"Yes." The definitiveness in Gadon's voice was more worrying than what he said next. "The Vulkars have hired a Mandalorian assassin named Selven to make sure your friend doesn't escape."

It occurred to Gaius that Gadon didn't support their plan as much as he and Carth had initially believed. This was the first either had spoken to the gang leader since their initial meeting. "What are you suggesting?"

"You just focus on the race for now. I've got the rest sorted out." Gadon patted him on the back and walked off.

Gaius shook his head to try and grasp Gadon's cryptic instructions. Focusing on the race was the least of Gaius's plans right now. And, Mandalorian assassin or not, he needed to find a way below platform. He wondered why the gang leader hadn't told him that Bastila would be brought out during the opening ceremony, but figured it was best not to ask the man outright.

The first heat was already underway by the time Gaius walked back to Phirk's plot. A dozen swoops whooshed by as Phirk watched from the cockpit of his speeder, having apparently finished with his adjustments. The Aqualish ignored Gaius as he approached and stood next to the speeder.

"Carth, are you there?" Gaius pulled the hidden comlink closer to his ear. It was difficult to hear with the noise from the ongoing race and the crowd.

"I hear you," there was no hesitation in the response, Carth must have been waiting for the call. "We have eyes on where they took her. Dead center under of the racer's platform. It's a straight shot from the entrance underneath."

Gaius scanned the crowd to see if he could find where the Captain as sitting based on what he described being able to see, but the crowd was too thick to pick out any one person. "There's another twist. Gadon told me they hired some Mandalorian assassin to guard her."

"You need backup?" It was nice for Carth to offer, but Gaius had no idea how the Captain would even make it to the platform from the crowd.

"No, I'll be fine," Gaius answered after some thought. "I need to find a way down below before we can-" he was cut off as the engines on the speeder next to him gunned without warning. The first heat had finished and Phirk was in the second. "Before we can make a move," Gaius finished as the racer took off for the starting line. Gaius's problem wasn't finding a way onto the track, it was finding a way below the platform without being noticed. That and the assassin.

"Alright, just keep me posted." Carth sounded frustrated. Gaius empathized. They were so close to Bastila, but were running low on time to rescue her. If the Black Vulkars won the races like Gadon predicted, they'd turn her over to the Sith.

Gaius wandered away from his plot and began scanning through the rows of other speeders again. Most everyone was focused on either the race or their own vehicles. No one, not even rival gangs, paid Gaius any mind as he slipped between plots, looking for some way that he could sneak down.

He covered the length of the platform faster than he'd predicted, but didn't discover anything he hadn't already known. The only ways onto the track were the two lifts, and neither was positioned in such a way that he could sneak down, the run around the platform without being noticed.

Phirk had finished the heat and was parking his swoop bike when Gaius returned. The early heats were probably shorter than later ones. The racer had a smile on his face – or the Aqualish equivalent of one – as he climbed out of the speeder. "«And they said I have to sit all the way out here! The crowd will know my name at the end of the day!»" he shouted to no one in particular. The other Hidden Beks went about their business, but he had attracted the attention of several Black Vulkars.

"«Congratulations, rookie,»" it was Kandon, the mechanic, who shouted back at them, "«I guess we will see you on the track, after all.»" Phirk snorted a reply before jumping down and flipping the engine hatch on the right wing of his speeder.

There was a thin cloud of black smoke streaming out the edges of the panel. Gaius reached into the box of tools and grabbed a welding torch. Phirk placed a hand into Gaius's chest to hold him away, staring him in the eyes. "«You can touch my speeder when I am lying dead on the track,»" the racer told him. "«Hand me the torch so I can fix the accelerator, and go back to whatever it was you were doing before.»"

Gaius pushed the hand off and shoved the welder into it. "Have fun," he said, coldly, "but if you end up a smear being mopped off the track, don't blame me." He turned to leave, but paused. "Also, it's the motivator that's smoking. The accelerator should be fine after one race, and it that was broken, you'd know from the smell. Weld the spanners shut for quick fix, but you won't be able to push it as hard on the turns unless they're replaced." Gaius supposed he should do at least some mechanical work if he was here as a mechanic, for appearances if nothing else.

He didn't stay to see if Phirk took his advice, stepping away from the swoop and leaning against the small workbench in their plot. He needed to find an excuse to go down onto the track. Or create some kind of distraction to let him slip through.

A sudden banging from the track, followed by a gasp from the crowd caught Gaius's attention. One of the speeders in the current heat had burst into flame on the track. It didn't appear to be a crash; the remains of the speeder – and its racer – were entirely in the center of the track without any of the other bikes near them. The hoots and hollars of the Hidden Beks to his right, and the sprinting Twi'lek to his left, signaled whose remains lay on the track.

It was Redros, the Vulkars' star racer. His speeder was built by Kandon Ark, using the stolen prototype accelerator. That explained why Gadon was so indifferent about helping Gaius rescue Bastila. He must've known the accelerator wouldn't hold out the entire day. He wondered when, during the past two days, the gang leader had discovered this information.

Now, the Black Vulkars were out both their best racer and the technological advantage. The top prize was the Hidden Beks' to win. Gaius grabbed his com. "It was the Beks," he said, "They must've sabotaged the accelerator."

There was an audible pause as Carth made the same mental calculation Gaius had just finished. "If they end up with Bastila, it could be just as bad as any of the other gangs having her as a captive."

Gadon said he knew how to work all the angles. For him, the Hidden Beks winning the races, and Bastila as grand prize, was just as good as Gaius rescuing her from the Black Vulkars. Better, even. He and Carth would have to act without the gang's help now. "We need a new plan."

"No, the plan is still the same. We just do it alone." The Captain was right. They were still in the same situation, just without the alliance they'd thought they had with the Hidden Beks. Gaius scanned the crowd, hoping to find some inspiration in the mass of people across the way, but nothing came to him.

He stood up from the workbench and walked toward the platform's edge, taking a knee and observing the scene below unfold. In addition to Kandon, a number of Vulkars were running to the destroyed speeder. The racer was nowhere to be found, having likely been killed in the explosion, and it took several minutes for the fire to be completely extinguished.

The race had been completely halted, and most of the swoops had pulled off to the side of the track. Racers stood around outside there swoops, waiting for the race to resume. Anyone in the stands not focused on the crash had turned their attention to their favorite racers, asking for them to waive or say "hi" from where they were waiting.

An idea struck Gaius while he watched the action around him. It was risky, and likely wouldn't endear him to Gadon, but he had to try something. After all, if Gadon was allowed to play both sides, why couldn't he play the Hidden Beks right back?

Gaius lifted the com to his mouth. "Carth," he began, still staring at the commotion around the speeder, "is there any way for you to get onto the track? I have an idea." As it turned out, they'd need Phirk's help after all.


	10. Improvising

**Chapter 9: Improvising**

"Don't go over my head like that, again. We may be in unfamiliar territory, but I'm still the ranking officer." Carth hated pulling rank, but Gaius was out of line. The ensign had gone ahead and made a deal with some gang without consulting him first. He hadn't even considered that Gadon wasn't being entirely up-front about his plans, or that there might be some better way to rescue Bastila than to try and abduct her in front of a crowd of several hundred thousand.

There was no going back now, however, and there was no use adding more stress on the man. They'd been through a lot in just a few days. They were the only known survivors of the _Endar Spire_ besides Koy and Bastila, and the private wasn't likely to live much longer. It pained him to make the call that they wouldn't be getting her the medical attention she needed. Rescuing Bastila was the priority, and bringing medical equipment in from the Upper City would put that mission in jeopardy. He hadn't had to make a decision like that since the Mandalorian wars, and he hoped to never make one again.

It was oddly therapeutic to explain his decision to the young Twi'lek girl, when she asked why the doctor was staying in the base until she passed. "Why do you get to make that decisions, who lives and who dies? How can you choose that some Jedi is worth more than her? I mean, she's right there."

"I make the decision because I have to, Mission," he could see a tear forming in her eye, but she was too strong to let it slip away. "Our job is to make sure Bastila safe from the Sith. That's her job, too," he motioned to Koy. Mission didn't respond, but he knew she understood.

Now, Carth was standing next to Mission at the swoop race, surrounded by Hidden Beks. A camera droid floated past the viewing platform and pointed directly to where they stood. A shot of the crowd was displayed on the hovering screen above the racers' platform and someone announced the arrival of Anglu, the Hidden Bek's. Mission pointed to the screen as she and Carth were on the display for a few seconds as the camera panned over them. Carth had been to sporting events on Telos and Coruscant before, and the gangs' race on Taris was oddly similar for something so informal.

The Beks had more space on the viewing platform than many of the smaller gangs, so they were able to stand together without having to literally rub shoulders with each other. Carth still felt uncomfortably close to the group Niktos in front of him. Judging from the smell, at least one of them hadn't washed his fur in days.

Mission cheered with the rest of the Hidden Beks as Anglu waived to the crowd and ascended to the top of the racers' platform. It was hard for Carth to keep in mind that Mission was a member of the swoop gang, considering her age and how closely she'd stuck to Carth and Gaius since their first encounter in the Undercity.

"Anglu's the best swoop racer on Taris," Mission said, excitedly grabbing at his jacket sleeve to get his attention. Carth responded with a slight nod. He didn't care about the race or the racers. They were here for Bastila. Mission didn't seem to notice, though, "I think she'll take over the Beks once Gadon steps down."

Carth didn't answer right away, but realized he was being rude. "I thought Zaerdra was his second in command, doesn't that out her in line to take over?" Mission's face lowered into a pout.

"She is, but let's see her try to lead the Beks without Gadon telling her what to do. No one's going to listen to that bantha pile once they don't have to." Smart and resourceful as she was, Mission was still a teenager.

"You don't like her."

"What gave it away?"

Carth laughed. Despite Mission hanging around them for the past few days, he hadn't really found out much in the way of her personal life. "Any reason you two don't get along? She wasn't all that friendly with you back at the base, either."

Mission's face made it apparent it wasn't something she wanted to get into. She looked away, no doubt debating whether or not to respond. "There's history. But it ain't my fault she doesn't like me. She just blames me for Griff dropping of the planet without her. Like I had a say in anything he did." Carth had no idea what she was talking about, this was the first she'd mentioned anyone named Griff.

"Was he family?" There was too much of an age difference between Zaerdra and Mission for them to be fighting over some guy's affections.

The Twi'lek nodded, but kept looking away, towards the track. "He's my older brother." Carth figured he would let Mission decide whether or not to continue the conversation. Whatever happened was obviously sensitive.

The two waited quietly for a time, save for when Mission joined in with the rest of the Hidden Beks for the occasional cheer whenever one of their racers arrived. Finally, Gaius made an appearance on the track, alongside the Aqualish racer Gadon had paired him with.

The ensign walked behind the racer across the track and onto the platform lift. The announcer had stopped broadcasting the names of individual racers after the top – or Carth assumed they were the top – racers had all arrived, and the Beks' cheers were noticeably softer without anyone prompting them.

Carth wasn't a fan of how heavily their plan relied on Gadon and random chance. Gaius was a reliable soldier, but up until this point, Carth hadn't been forced to depend on him to this large of a degree. And the whole business about his previously-secret mechanical skills triggered a nerve in the back of Carth's neck.

The Captain read the personnel file of every soldier under his command, and not one line of Ensign Starr's entry had mentioned any engineering skills. It made sense if he'd learned them from his parents back home, but it still bothered Carth that something like that wouldn't be in the file. Gaius had enrolled in the Academy on Corelia for piloting, not mechanical work.

Ensign Starr commed in once he was settled on the platform, and Carth told him to wait until the races started before scouting around for Bastila. This was the weakest link in their plan. The layout of the arena was a complete unknown to them. Apparently, the gangs had decided to hold this race in a previously-abandoned track to throw off the Sith, and none of the people in the gang they'd met knew anything useful about this track.

"So, Carth," Mission said, filling the dead time before the opening ceremonies. She was one of those kids who couldn't stand keeping quiet for too long. "You're a pilot right? And you've been all over the galaxy?" This was the one thing he had learned about Mission, she loved hearing about places other than Taris. Funny, considering how much she liked talking about her home planet.

"I have. You get to see a lot with the Republic fleet. During the Mandalorian Wars, it felt like I was on a different planet every couple weeks." Granted, most of those planets were ones Carth would rather forget than reminisce over.

Mission seemed uncomfortable as she began her next question, "So, what do you think of Taris? Like, compared to other planets you've been to?"

Carth hadn't expected that, and gave the question some thought before answering, trying to be honest without offending the girl. "To be honest, Mission, it wouldn't be very high on the list. It's beautiful to look at on the higher levels, but the aristocrats control the Upper City, while aliens and the poor are kept on the lower levels, which are run by gangs more than any government."

Mission was caught off guard by his answer, and he probably should've censored his answer more strongly than he had. "Yeah, but, that's just since the Sith have been here. Before that…" she paused for a second. Carth glanced back at the track where the opening ceremonies were just about to begin. "Well, I guess it was like that before the Sith, too. It's just, Taris is my home, y'know? It never seemed all that bad to me."

Carth sighed, "Trust, me, Mission, there are a lot of places better than Taris. There are a lot worse, too. But it's really no place for a kid to be growing up on the streets alone."

"Hey, I can take care of myself, I ain't no kid," Mission raised her voice at the perceived insult. If the Twi'lek was defensive about his answer before, now she was angry. "Jeez, I ask you a question, and you give me a lecture." She turned away from him and faced the track.

This wasn't what Carth had signed up for when he agreed that the girl could stick around when he went to the track. Whether she liked it or not, Mission was a kid. "You want a lecture?" She didn't respond, keeping her eyes fixed on the track ahead. "Okay, I'll give you a lecture."

"Carth-" she tried to interrupt.

"No, you don't get to talk over me. If you want me to think you're mature, you need to act like it, and not like some snot-nosed kid, who-"

Mission turned to face him now, and grabbed his arm. "Carth, look!" she was pointing to the track, where someone had lead out three transportable prison cells to the starting line. Carth looked up at the screen above the racers' platform, where they were showing a close up of one of the prisoners. Bastila.

He commed Gaius, but the ensign cut him off. He saw. It was her.

Bastila stood, swaying in the cell like she was in some form of trance. The gang must've been using a control collar to keep her from being able to escape. The electronic waves were sure to be strong enough to scramble anyone's mind, even a Jedi's for a short while.

The Vulkars wheeled the cell under the racers' platform as the first heat moved their swoops into position. The cages came to a halt directly in front of Carth and Mission's position, underneath the platform's metal framing. After a brief discussion with Gaius over the coms, they were no closer to a complete plan than when they had arrived, but their biggest question had been answered for them. They found Bastila.

Carth and Mission waited in tense silence as races began and finished, heat after heat, their time to act running low. He could feel the dread that they might not complete their mission building inside, even as he tried to force the thought from his mind.

The swoop explosion was loud enough that it rocked the stands. From what the announcer said, it was Redros, the Vulkar racer. The Hidden Beks around him cheered that their opponent would not be racing the remainder of the day. Carth didn't show his disapproval outwardly, but he was disgusted by the barbaric cheer. Redros likely didn't survive the crash. That was when Gaius's voice came in through the communicator.

They formed a plan. The ensign would handle the first step, then Mission would get them onto the track, and Carth would rescue the Jedi. Not a solid plan, and the details would require some improvisation, but it was a plan, nonetheless.

Gaius completed his task four heats later, when another fire erupted on the track. This one was significantly smaller, and the racer would survive. It would only take a fraction of the time it took to clean up Redros's crash to get this mess off the track. They'd have to act fast. Carth almost felt bad for the Aqualish racer. He'd been unlucky enough to be stuck with a stranger for this race, and now his swoop had been sabotaged by his own mechanic.

The Twi'lek hadn't spoken to Carth since their argument, other than to say that she knew a way onto the track. But, now she was springing into action, though the Captain wished she'd provided more detail. Granted, he probably wouldn't have agreed if the Twi'lek had been completely forthcoming.

In a blur, Mission pulled her custom blaster from the exposed holster on her hip and fired into the sky. Carth thought the blast was meant as a simple distraction, but the girl began to push her way to the edge of the platform. Her blast had grazed one of the floating camera droids which patrolled around the viewing areas to get shots of the crowd.

"Mission!" Carth exclaimed as she jumped over the edge of the platform. The Twi'lek yelled something back, but her words were drowned out in the noise from the crowd. Carth pushed his way forward to where she had leapt. Peering over the side, the blue Twi'lek was gripping onto the damaged camera droid as it slowly lowered her onto the track.

She waved for Carth to follow her, dangerously holding onto the falling droid with only one hand as she did. It was with a pit in his stomach that Carth realized this stunt was her plan. A second camera droid passed overhead a few seconds later, and, in one fluid motion, Carth had his blaster out and a round in the droid's paneling.

He shook his head in disbelief as the black, metal ball gently drifted down past him. With outstretched arms, Carth stepped forward and into the sudden rush of air that awaited him just over the platform's edge. The camera droid was easier to grab and hold onto than he'd imagined. Exposed wiring and frames betrayed the poor engineering of its maker, but provided easy handholds for a hitchhiker to grip. Hopefully the poor engineering didn't apply to the anti-grav boosters.

Carth had jumped out of ships before; all in basic training, of course, but this was entirely different. There was no jetpack or parachute to save him if something went wrong, he'd have to maintain his grip the entire way down. The wind wasn't rushing past him quite as fast as he'd imagined it would be, and the entire trip down would have been peaceful if not for the death grip he maintained on the droid. The ground approached his feet slowly until they finally met as the droid unwillingly carried him to his destination below. Mission was waiting for him on the track.

"We started something up there," she said, pointing above them to the viewing platform as Carth found his balance. Blaster shots were being fired.

There were only a few, but in just seconds a handful of shots became dozens flying in every direction. The noise grew louder as members of the crowd tried to run from the deadly gang brawl that was breaking out in the stands.

"Let's get moving," if this fight scared off the Vulkars, they might take Bastila as their prize and run. Mission nodded and the two started for the racers' platform.

The section of the track they crossed was clear. The race had stopped when Phirk's speeder exploded on the track, so Carth and Mission didn't have to dodge any swoops as they sprinted toward the racers' platform. What did worry Carth was the Mandalorian who had been enlisted to keep Bastila in her cage. Was it the same Mandalorian they had encountered in the Undercity? If so, this would be a much harder task than he'd anticipated.

They would soon find out as the wire framework of the racers' platform loomed larger as he and Mission approached. "Stop!" some Rodian yelled, pointing a blaster at them. Carth shot first, and the gang member was on the ground before Mission had even pointed her own blaster.

She would still need it, though. Three more guards stood in front of them; two gang members and a mercenary, judging from the symbols on their clothes. They stood in the threshold of the platform, blocking Carth and Mission's path to Bastila.

The mercenary held two pistols, both of which she trained on Carth. The tusked skull on her armor gave away whom among the three was the Mandalorian. "You can just turn around right now, because you're not getting in here," she said, matter-of-factly.

Mission and Carth didn't move, fingers on the triggers of their pistols. "Not to be rude, but I disagree," the young Twi'lek snarked, before firing a shot at the woman. Carth would've shaken his head disapprovingly if he didn't have to roll to the side to avoid shots from the other two thugs. Mission should've given him a chance to talk things out. Or at least not open fired without any kind of tactical gameplan.

Carth spun out of his roll and fired two shots into the chest of the gang member to the right of the Mandalorian, another Roadian. The mercenary focused her fire on Mission, while the remaining gang member was concentrating on Carth.

Mission had ducked through the metal frames of the platform, and managed to avoid blaster fire through the structural web. Red blaster bolts fizzled out against the metal, accomplishing nothing aside from creating a black mark. Carth was too large to slip through the openings in the frames with any quickness, and found himself taking cover behind the wiring, hoping the Vulkar wasn't a good enough shot to hit him through the gaps where he was exposed. Carth, on the other hand, was a good enough shot. He took his time lining up the sights on his blaster pistol before firing. The bolt threaded the gaps between the metal bars and struck the Vulkar in the side. The Zabrak gang member collapsed where he stood.

The Mandalorian watched her ally – or at least, contractor – fall, and apparently realized she was targeting the less dangerous of her two foes. She turned her focus towards Carth, forcing the Republic soldier to back further away from her. The Mandalorian fired rapidly out of both pistols, but her shots had no hope of passing through all the small gaps in the platform's framework. Carth fired the occasional shot to keep her attention, but not even he could shoot through the maze of metal that separated them.

Fortunately, he didn't have to hit the woman, simply keep her distracted. Mission was still weaving through towards the cells, where Bastila was being held about ten meters behind the mercenary. Carth cracked a grin as the girl reached the cages and began unlocking… the wrong cell.

Mission had gone for the closest cage, and was picking the lock of one that contained a Wookiee, rather than a Jedi. To make matters worse, the creature roared once the cage was open, attracting the attention of the Mandalorian mercenary, who turned to see that she'd been duped. Now the shots were being fired at Mission and her new Wookiee friend.

Carth wasn't entirely sure how he started sprinting, but he found his legs carrying him between the metal bars more nimbly than he'd though possible. Free from the web, Carth's legs pushed his chest straight into the mercenary. The two tumbled forward and onto the ground, grappling for their dropped blasters.

The woman was strong, much stronger than Carth anticipated, and it was a struggle for him to stay on top and reach for his pistol. It was even harder when the Mandalorian rolled to the side and Carth's head slammed into one of the solid metal frames. The audible sound of skull against metal left him with a ringing in his ears.

His vision blurred for a moment as the pain in the back of his head spread around to his eyes. Through the haze, he could see the Mandalorian stand, and slowly lift one of her pistols off the ground. The fog grew thicker, but it was still clear that she was aiming at his chest.

The blast felt hot against his skin. Carth had been shot before, but never in his torso. The pain seemed to sharpen his senses as the adrenaline kicked in, pushing back the fog that clouded his eyes and dulling the pain that was spreading through his head. He needed to act now or die.

Carth blindly reached for the small pistol he'd kept hidden in his boot. Whipping the blaster out, he fired without aiming, only to see the bolt fly above the Mandalorian's head. He hadn't missed, the bold flew straight through the space where her head had been. But, the mercenary fell to the ground as he fired. He hadn't hit her, but someone had.

It wasn't Mission, either, the girl was standing with her arms spread in front of the Wookiee, as if trying to shield the large beast with her small frame. Her face and weapon were pointed in front of her, toward one of the cells. Bastila's cell.

The Jedi stood underneath the open cell door, with one of the Mandalorian's blasters in her hand. Bastila's eyes were focused and intent, scanning the area around her. She posed, wordlessly, blaster outstretched. Only the suggestive outfit she wore provided a sign that she was anything but a warrior.

Before Carth could say anything, the entire platform, even the ground, began to shake violently. With a heave, he could feel the floor pushing him upwards, to the top of the platform. A hidden door in the roof slowly opened, letting in rays of fluorescent lighting under the platform ceiling. The racers, mechanics, and other assorted gang members, stared down the newly formed hole at the freed prisoners who rose to meet them at the top of the platform.

"Do you not see what they have done?" a voice whined from the back of the crowd. It sounded familiar, but Carth couldn't quite place where he'd heard the man before. "The Hidden Beks have betrayed the peace and tried to steal our prizes. They have sabotaged our swoops and killed our men. Join the Vulkars and fight them! Do not let Gadon Thek get away with this." The man walked onto the section of platform that had just raised up from the ground.

"You're the one who has betrayed our peace, Brejik." This was a voice Carth could place. It was Gadon. "You brought a Jedi to our race and attracted the Sith. You stole our prototype accelerator to use against us."

Carth stood and grabbed the wound on his chest when a sharp pain reminded him of the blaster shot he'd taken. Stumbling towards Mission and the Wookiee, he managed to whisper loud enough for them to hear, "We have to go before this gets worse. With Bastila." The Twi'lek acknowledged him, but continued to stare at the two gang leaders.

"We have to end this fighting, Brejik. Think of what this war is doing to the Lower City," Gadon was yelling now, too.

The cells must've been kept on some kind of lift so they could be brought out in dramatic fashion at the conclusion of the race. Their section of the platform was surrounded by a crowd of racers and gang members, all staring at Brejik and Gadon near the center of the platform, practically on top of the lift which had brought Carth, Mission, and Bastila to the top of the platform.

The younger of the two gang leaders lifted a blaster towards his elder. "You began this fighting, Gadon," he said, "It was your decision not to step down when you were no longer able to lead. I did what was best for my men, and you appointed some schutta as your second. Don't lecture me about what is best for others."

Gadon stood firm in the face of the blaster, but unholstered the pistol from his side. "You weren't ready to lead And you clearly still aren't. But this fighting ends now." As he said the words, Gadon tossed the pistol casually to the side, leaving himself defenseless. The eyes of every gang member around them went wide.

The silence was deafening. Every person in the arena held their breath. Brejik continued to point his blaster at Gadon, who stood statute-like in front of him.

"The fighting ends now," Brejik said. "The Beks end now," he screamed as he fired.

Gadon fell backwards as the blast made contact with his chest, a grunt escaped his lips when he hit the ground, but he was perfectly still.

Mission yelled something next to Carth, and another blaster shot flew out of the crowd and into the side of Brejik's head. The leader of the Vulkars turned as he, too, dropped to his side. A light-skinned Twi'lek in the crowd barked orders to the Beks, and the entire arena once again erupted in a hail of blasterfire. Zaerdra rushed to Gadon's limp body, looking for any sign of life.

"We have to go!" Carth yelled to Mission. He could barely feel the pain from the wound in his stomach now, he was running entirely on adrenaline. Carth looked to Bastila, who'd observed the entire affair silently with Mandalorian's pistol raised in a defensive position. "Commander, come with us," Carth yelled to her, and the Jedi nodded in response. There was no doubt she recognized him, but a formal explanation of how he got here would have to wait.

The small group ran as fast as they could, the Wookiee helping Carth and roaring as they dashed to the lift at the end of the platform. They could steal a speeder once they were outside the arena, and fly to the Hidden Beks' base, or the apartment, or anywhere but the chaos that was going on here. Blaster bolts zipped around their heads as the armed gangs fought in every direction. Aliens, humans, Beks, and Vulkars all fell to the blaze.

The lift down was a brief reprieve from the fighting, as no one was targeting the small elevator. Bastila remained quiet as they were lowered to the ground. It didn't help that Mission wasn't giving anyone a chance to speak.

"I can't believe, Big Z, did you see? Is Gadon okay? And where's Gaius? Do we need to get him, because he doesn't know the way back to the base!? Oh my god, Z did you get hit? Carth, were you shot?"

"I'll be alright, Mission," Carth tried to calm the girl. "We'll all be alright, the worst of it is over now."

That seemed to do the trick, or at least gave Mission the chance to breath. "The closest exit is through the racers' tunnel," she explained, much more steadily than before, "there's no way the guards are still there with all of this going on." She looked up at the blaster fire flying in every direction off the racers' platform and in the audiences' area.

It was a solid idea. The four crossed the track without a single blast coming in their direction. The races were at a complete halt now, and it was unlikely they would be finished today, if they were ever completed at all. They reached the entrance to the tunnel, and Carth took one last look behind them at the mess they had started. Dead swoop gang members were falling over the platforms' edges. Somewhere on the far side of the arena, an explosion erupted and someone screamed. A stray blast must have detonated a swoop engine on one of the platforms.

 _All of this for one Jedi_ , he thought, as they made their way through the tunnel. Bastila ran at the front of their group now, pointing the mercenary's blaster forward, but was quickly overtaken by Mission and the Wookiee.

Finally, some good news met them at the tunnel's end. Gaius was waiting for them with a speeder, large enough to fit all of them, including the Wookiee. "I was just about to come back in and get you, Captain," he said, with a cocky smile. "But, I see you wanted to make a dramatic exit. Is Bastila with you?"

Carth didn't answer out loud, turning behind him and pointing to the Jedi. Something was wrong, though, Bastila stopped dead in her tracks.

"Starr?" it the first thing she'd said out loud since her rescue. "I didn't expect-" and the ensign fainted in front of the speeder.


	11. Chain of Command

**Author's Notes: If you have read up to this point prior to 11/14/16, I've made a few changes (or, George Lucasings), mostly minor proofreading or wording choices, but there was one major edit to the ending of Chapter 6 ("The Endar Spire").**

 **Chapter 10: Chain of Command**

The woman was wrapped in golden light. It surrounded her, consumed her. The light was a hurricane, swirling as fast as its winds could fly, and she was its eye. With an outstretched arm, she bent its radiance to her will, focusing its torrential might into a controlled force. The light molded, spinning around her and forming into a beam which reached forward like a part of her body. Now it surrounded him, and slowly, as if through water, he fell backward. His head gently tapped the floor, but the blow caused the world around him to rush forward in a single, blurred motion.

Gaius awoke, feeling his heart pounding up in his throat. His breathing was rapid from the aftermath of the dream. Small beads of sweat formed above his mouth, which he wiped clean with his sleeve. Someone stood above him, blocking the fluorescent light from his eyes, keeping him in shadow. The man growled something that Gaius vaguely understood.

From the corner of the room, another voice spoke, "Easy, Big Z, give the guy some space." It was Mission. Gaius tried to sit up to locate her, but his head was still pounding, forcing him to close his eyes while moving upright. The Wookiee backed several paces away from the bedside, so he was no longer standing over him. "Well, look who finally decided to finish his nap," Mission was smiling, "You look like bantha poodoo, Gaius."

The room had been spinning since he opened his eyes, and his stomach felt like it was joining his heartbeat in his throat. He grabbed a fistful of the bedsheet and squeezed it as he resisted the urge to lay back down. Not that the bed he found himself in was particularly comfortable.

"What happened?" he finally managed to grumble between deep breathes.

"«I carried you back,»" the Wookiee answered. Though he hadn't heard Shriiwook, the Wookiee language, for some time, it returned easily to Gaius.

Mission chuckled, "What he means to say is that you passed out by the speeder. Zaalbar, here, threw you over his shoulder and Bastila flew us back. With my directions, of course." She beamed at her contribution to the escape.

Gaius had to think about the statement longer than he should have. It was like a fog was wrapped around his brain, making it difficult to focus on single thoughts. "Bastila. We found Bastila." He shook his head, almost in disbelief, but didn't respond beyond that. He would've laughed if he didn't feel like it would cause his stomach to upturn.

The most important question about their mission satisfied, Gaius sat silently and recouped his strength. His eyes surveyed the room. Unwashed clothing littered the floor – shirts, shorts, undergarments, and jackets – most of which was in a pile in the far corner. The walls were the same rusted grey-brown of the Lower City, save for a poster hanging above the chair where Mission sat. This must be the young Twi'lek's room.

"How long have I been out?" he asked once the room's spinning slowed.

"Not long," Mission responded, "We've been at the base just over a couple hours. The doc's still looking over Carth's blaster wound."

"Blaster wound?" Gaius's breathing normalized with each inhale. Focusing on the conversation was easier than it had been.

Mission almost laughed as she answered, which was oddly comforting. The Captain must be okay if she was treating it lightly. "Carth got hit with a bolt from the Vulkar merc. Right before the Jedi took her down with her own blaster."

"«The doctor said he will be okay,»" the Wookiee, Zaalbar, added, quickly. An important detail Gaius intuited, but Mission hadn't made explicit.

Gaius slowly stood up from the bedside, pausing with every movement to see how his stomach reacted. It seemed to have settled down, and any threats of ejecting its contents were idle for the moment. He felt virtually rejuvenated as his feet tapped the floor, the nausea now vanished. His arms stretched outwards to the sides, as he tried to unstiffen his neck from the hard bed.

Gaius closed his eyes for a yawn but was immediately engulfed in a blanket of warm fur. The Wookiee squeezed him tightly, nearly separating Gaius's feet from the ground which they had just found. Zaalbar growled something happily before finally putting him down. "«Thank you for helping Mission rescue me,»" he said, smiling a Wookiee grin.

"I did?" Gaius didn't remember rescuing a Wookiee.

Mission hopped up from her chair. "Big Z was one of the prizes in the race with your Jedi friend."

Gaius nodded knowingly. He almost grinned. He and Carth both thought it was odd the Twi'lek spent so much time around them. Now it was clear. The girl used them to get to her friend.

"«I do not know what I would have done if you had not rescued me,»" the Wookiee walked over to Mission, "«I would have been a slave, like so many of my people.»" The Twi'lek squeezed her friend tightly, burying her head into the fur on his chest.

"I'm just glad we could help, Zaalbar," Gaius began as they released their hug, "But Mission's a resourceful girl, she would've figured out something without us." She didn't acknowledge the complement but made no effort to refute it, either. "We should check in on Carth and Bastila. Are they close by?"

Mission was already heading for the door, "Yeah, they're just down the hall." She paused with her hand on the door, keeping it closed while she finished speaking, "Just stay close to me and Z. The guards are a little tense right now."

Just as Mission had told him, the Hidden Bek's guards were patrolling the hallway with hands on their pistols. One of them looked Gaius over as he passed, visibly uncertain about the relative newcomer into the base. Another guard waved to their small group as she approached. It was the woman who'd been at the front door when they first arrived at the Bek base.

Mission held up a hand to make sure she stopped to talk. "Are they making it back from the track?"

"It's been a steady stream. Good thing that doctor was around. He'll have plenty of work," she started to walk off, but waited long enough to smile at the Wookiee. "Good to see you back here, Zaalbar."

"«It's good to see you, too,»" he responded, the low growling noises echoing in the metal passageway. "«I'm sorry it caused so much trouble for the Beks.»"

The woman patted Zaalbar on the back as she continued toward her destination down the hall.

"Come on, Carth's in this room," Mission said, leading the two to a closed off room.

The Wookiee leaned over top of Gaius to open the door Mission directed them to. Many of the sliding doors in the Hidden Bek base had long ago stopped opening automatically, so the Beks had attached bars to pull them open and shut. Zaalbar stood to the side so Gaius and Mission could pass through. His large frame hovered over them as they walked underneath his hairy arm. Zaalbar had to duck as he followed.

The room was much like the one they had left, just without the clothing on the floor. Same grey walls and white lights. Inside, Carth was seated on a bed similar to the one Gaius had woken up in. His chest was wrapped in white medical gauze, though patches had turned crimson where blood soaked through. The Captain winced as he turned to see Gaius walk through the door, but otherwise appeared to be in fairly good condition considering the circumstances.

Seeing the room's other occupant nearly made Gaius miss a step, but he caught himself before losing his balance. Sitting in a chair near the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, was the woman in the yellow light from his dream.

"Ah, there you are," Bastila said, as if he'd merely stepped out of the room for a moment "Captain Onasi was just filling me in on your operations at the over the past few days. I must say, you have employed quite _unorthodox_ military procedure." She had a sour look on her face, and her eyes darted to the door which Zaalbar had left open.

"It took-" Gaius started, but the Jedi raised a finger to imply that she was not yet finished talking.

"I am surprised to hear that you do not yet have a plan to get off this planet. One would think that making such arrangements would have been of a higher priority, considering the Sith occupation." Bastila stood from her seat as she spoke, and strode briskly to the door. She closed it, loudly, before turning back to the others in the room.

The Commander's abrasiveness was perplexing, particularly given the trouble they'd been through to find her. "We didn't have much time to make those plans. Rescuing you was our highest priority," Gaius said, trying to defend his and Carth's work.

The Captain shifted, leaning forward so he was no longer supporting his back against the wall. His grimace betrayed the pain he was otherwise hiding quite well. "This is what we've been going through."

Bastila returned to her chair on the far side of the room. "Well, I'd hardly consider it much of a rescue. Stumbling around the planet's surface until you found someone to bring you to me is more luck than any sort of plan." She gestured subtly towards Mission as the 'someone' she referred to. "And, considering that Carth was shot and you were rendered unconscious, it might be more appropriate to say that I rescued the two of you."

Carth coughed, but Gaius suspected the Captain was concealing a laugh. This was clearly a discussion he'd already endured. "What's done is done, and it doesn't matter who saved who," Carth used the authoritative yet calm voice those under his command were all familiar with _._ "We're together now, and our focus needs to be on making a plan to get off this planet."

Mission smirked in the corner, "You're making it sound easy, Carth. I've overheard Exchange goons talking about trying to get off the planet. They say that no ship has even made it out of Taris's atmosphere since the Sith started the quarantine."

"«Don't be so negative, Mission,»" Zaalbar's tone hinted that he agreed with her, though.

"The Wookiee is right," Bastila continued, "And, our chances of success should be much greater now, with my return to command. We can finally concentrate on the priorities of the mission."

"That's what we were doing, Bastila," Carth interjected

The Jedi nearly jumped out of her seat at the outburst. "Carth, this is hardly the way to address your commanding office-"

"You need to stop pulling rank and questioning my decisions. It's getting us nowhere. Either we can keep bickering over who's in charge and what should have been done, or we can work together to find a way off this planet." Bastila might have been a Jedi, but Carth was an experienced leader. He clearly wasn't afraid to stand up to the Commander.

"Bastila, you're in charge," Gaius broke several moments of uncomfortable silence. He caught the Twi'lek and Wookiee glance each other's' way, wordlessly taking bets on how the situation would end. "But, Captain Onasi knows what he's talking about. I shouldn't even have to speak up for him like this."

The Jedi paused for a moment, not having said anything since Carth reprimanded her. The rest of them would see if she chose to pull rank again or to cool off and listen. It struck Gaius how young the woman was for someone who was in such an important position. The Jedi couldn't have been older than twenty-five, several years younger than himself, but she could potentially be tasked with leading an entire fleet if the circumstances required.

After much contemplation, Bastila gave Carth a respectful nod. Gaius was relieved she'd chosen the less antagonistic option. They had enough enemies outside these walls, there was no need to be fighting inside.

"Very well," Bastila said, at last, "Carth, do you have any ideas?"

He shook his head, "Nothing concrete. But, if we put our ears to the ground, I'm sure someone out there has some information we could use. A lot of money is being lost by people who can't leave the planet, and someone out there has to have a ship that can run a blockade. We just have to find them." He stopped for a moment and looked Gaius in the eyes. "This planet is full of surprises."

Gaius suspected Carth was trying to imply something, but couldn't begin to figure out what it could possibly be.

Bastila cleared her throat to fill the silence. "We should start with the-"

Several sharp knocks on the closed door interrupted her.

All five heads turned to the source of the sound. Gaius reached for the blaster which had been on his hip at the race, but was now noticeably absent. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bastila holding her blaster toward the door. He wondered where her lightsaber had gone.

Mission, who had been silently watching the group's deliberations, was the only one to walk toward the door. Weapon drawn, she opened it cautiously at first, but threw it the rest of way once she could see who was on the other side. Gaius did not recognize the Devaronian standing in the hall, and it was unclear if Mission did, from the way she was pointing her blaster at his horned head.

"«Mission Vao, the young nuisance,»" he said through grinned teeth.

She didn't lower her weapon, "What do you want, bantha breathe? And how'd you get in here? Everyone knows you work for Davik,"

The Devaronian snickered, "«I am just a messenger, but my message is not for you.»" He gestured to the three Republic officers in the room. "«I have an invitation for them.»"

"They don't want any-"

"Mission, let him in," Carth cut her off.

Her head snapped around, the momentum from the movement nearly Sending her lekku flying into the messenger's face. "Z, back me up here. You all don't want to hear anything he has to say."

"Yes we do. Now let him in." It surprised Gaius how forceful the Captain could sound despite lying injured in a bed.

Mission hesitated before holstering her blaster. She stomped her foot in defiance as she did, though, and marched over to the far corner of the room to sulk. From where she stood now, she'd have a clean shot if the Exchange agent made any wrong moves.

"«Thank you for your hospitality, Captain.»" The Devaronian continued grinning as he turned to Bastila, "«It is good to see that you are unharmed, Jedi, and not in the hands of the Sith. And, you, ensign. I'm sure you will be in for a promotion once you have escaped this planet.»" He was showing off his knowledge and wasn't being subtle about it. Gaius's only interaction with the Exchange was when the thugs attacked them at the escape pod in the Undercity, but even he knew that they had access to more information than a bunch of gangsters should.

Bastila stepped forward to stand next to Gaius. "Very impressive, now who are you and what do you want?" she wasn't putting up with the messenger's games.

"«How rude of me. My name is, Tupalac,»" he bowed while introducing himself. Gaius wasn't sure if bowing was part of Devaronian culture, or if he was being sarcastic. "«I have a proposal for you, from someone you've met before.»" He paused, as if building to a dramatic moment. "«Canderous Ordo, the Mandalorian, has provided you with tickets to the dueling arena tonight.»"

Tupalac reached into his pocket. Gaius could see Mission tense, but she restrained herself from pulling out her weapon. In the Devaronian's clawed hand were two tickets. He held them out almost delicately. Gaius snatched the small papers from his hand. He turned them over, examining them. As Tupalac said, they were tickets for some duel that started in a few hours. They even had coordinates for the arena at the bottom.

"Last time we saw the Mandalorian, he tried to collect a bounty on us."

"«I cannot speak to any bounty, but I can assure you that Ordo's meeting is…»" he stopped mid-thought, as if trying to come up with the right word, "«… diplomatic in nature. He was quite impressed by your performance at the swoop track.»"

Bastila maintained eye contact with the Devaronian, watching his every move. "How would he be impressed? That was hardly over an hour ago."

"«The Exchange and its agents move quickly. As circumstances change, we adapt.»" He must have used that line before. Tupalac voiced it like a sales pitch. "«Canderous Ordo wishes to inform you of a business opportunity which is to transpire _off-_ planet.»" He slowed on the final words, making sure the Republic officers noticed his emphasis.

"We'll think about it," Carth said from the bed. He waved the alien out of the room, "You can leave now."

Tupalac's eyes widened in surprise, but he otherwise showed no signs of defiance. With a casual bow, he began backing to the door. He grinned one last time as he turned to Mission, "«I apologize that I did not meet your expectations,»" he said, passing through the threshold. He reached in to close the door, "«Mandalorians are not known for their patience,»" he concluded ominously as the door shut behind him.

They remained quite until Tupalac's footsteps completely disappeared down the hallway. Gaius stared at the tickets in his hand, not sure what to make of them.

Carth finally broke the silence. "Do we go?"

Bastila scoffed, "You aren't going anywhere in your condition." She held out her hand to Gaius, who passed the tickets to her. "We do not have much of a choice. Our other options are quite few."

"I agree," Gaius added, despite the decision having already been made. "He may be scum, but if he has a way off this rock, we should hear what he has to say."

Gaius and Bastila visited Koy before leaving. Zelka informed them that there was nothing more he could do for her. There were bacteria and viruses in the Undercity that not even his equipment in the Upper City would be able to detect. When they finally left the planet, Koy would not be going with them.

You wouldn't know it from the soldier's smile when she saw Bastila, though. "Mission accomplished," she pronounced, weakly laughing. Unfortunately, her expression changed for the worse as the laughs turned to coughs, and she was left wheezing. "I'm sorry," she said, once she was able to breathe again, "that I wasn't more help."

"You have done your duty remarkably," Bastila reassured her. "Now rest. We will find a way off of this planet."

"Yes, ma'am." Still lying down, she tried to salute her superior. Koy's eyes shifted to Gaius as Bastila turned to leave. Her eyes narrowed, "She's your duty, guard. Keep her safe." He saluted before leaving.

Gaius mulled over her words the entire trip to the arena. He was a Jedi guard, and a last-minute addition to the crew by the Jedi commanders. But, why? This was the first time he'd thought about the oddity since Carth mentioned it in the elevator. What could the Jedi possibly have possibly wanted with him?

Bastila's silence during their commute did nothing to distract him from the questions. He was left alone in his thoughts. He tried to occupy himself by searching the ceiling of the Lower City for some gap that they could fly through to bypass the Sith checkpoints. His efforts were futile; the Upper City was built with the purpose of keeping the residents of the lower levels out.

Finally, when he and the Jedi stood in a large, enclosed garage under the dueling arena that he summoned the willpower to search for answers. "Bastila," he started, slowly, "would you clarify something that's been bothering me?"

"Yes, of course," she said, stepping out of the speeder. They'd travelled in the same one that Gaius had 'borrowed' for their escape from the swoop track.

He waited for a small group of women to pass by before continuing. "I had some questions about my assignment on the _Endar Spire_. Carth told me that the circumstances were unusual."

He watched the Jedi closely to gauge her reaction, but Bastila's face remained still. "You mean your assignment as a Jedi Guard? You were chosen, as the rest of them were, for your record, as I am sure you were told."

That didn't add up. Gaius folded his arms across his chest, continuing to scrutinize her reaction. "I failed out of the flight academy on Corelia. My officers' academy grades were high, but not enough to be singled out for an assignment at the last minute." Bastila's eyes darted to the side as another group of dueling spectators walked past. Unlike the swoop track, everyone here was human. "Not high enough to be added onto the guard of the Jedi who killed Revan," he added before she had a chance to respond.

Bastila sighed and visibly lowered her guard for a moment. "I'm not," she started, before recomposing herself, "I am not supposed to reveal this information. Not to you."

"I think being on a Sith-occupied planet is a good excuse to be lenient with protocol."

She stepped towards him, leaning forward so no one else would be within earshot of the conversation. "This war has taken a large toll on the Jedi. We are being killed or turning to Malak's side. You're right, Ensign Starr. The Jedi Guard are chosen, you were chosen, not just for your record. You were chosen for your potential ability to feel the Force."

Her answer raised more questions than Gaius would ever be able to ask. The Force? The magic the Jedi always talked about? Him? How could they know? What did this mean? What did it mean for him? Did this explain why he dreamed of her?

Gaius only managed to stammer out one word, "Me?"

Bastila placed a finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. "I know your head must be spinning, but please try to concentrate on the task at hand. There will be more time to speak of this later. For now, we have a meeting to attend."

It was perhaps the most difficult command Gaius had ever received from a superior officer, but he nodded silently and obeyed. They were meeting with the Mandalorian now. But, still, the thought ate at him. _Me?_


	12. Alliances

**Chapter 11: Alliances**

"I'm glad I got to you before Davik did." The Mandalorian faced forward while he talked, looking to the stage rather than to the two Republic officers sitting to his right.. "He's not happy after what happened at the swoop track."

The stands of the dueling arena were filling slowly, but the crowd was still thin enough that they could be spotted if someone was looking for them. Unlike the viewing area from the swoop races, these stands were part of the arena, forming a circle around the center stage. The seats were more organized as well. It was easy to find the Mandalorian when the tickets he'd given them were numbered.

"So, he does not know that we are meeting here, I take it." Bastila sat between Gaius and the Mandalorian. It was just as well; the Ensign's head was still swimming after what the Jedi told him in the garage. Bastila said he could feel the force. It could have explained so much, like why he'd passed out at the track, why he had the visions of Bastila, maybe even how he'd survived the crash on Taris when so many other soldiers didn't. The possibilities made it more than a little difficult to focus on their conversation.

The Mandalorian continued to look straight at the center stage. "Davik is hoping once the Sith have you, they'll leave the planet alone."

"But you have other plans." Bastila addressed the Mandalorian the same way she talked to his messenger. Straight to the point.

The Mandalorian finally turned and looked to the two people he was addressing. "I don't believe I introduced myself. My name is Canderous of Clan Ordo."

"Pleasure to meet you now that you're not pointing a rifle at my head," Gaius finally spoke up. He had to lean forward to see Canderous around Bastila. "Did you ask us to come here for a reason, or are we going to sit back and enjoy the duel?"

Canderous grinned, "I have a proposition. You know I work for Davik and the Exchange, but lately Davik hasn't been paying what he promised, and I hate being cheated. So, I figure it's time to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet." Gaius wondered how much of the Mandalorian's decision to leave Taris was truly based on a pay cut.

"And how do we factor into this escape plan?" Bastila lowered her voice as the crowd around them thickened. The lights dimmed while she spoke, indicating that the match was almost ready to begin.

"The Sith have auto-targeting cannons surrounding the planet. No one gets in or out without the Sith's launch codes, and any ship that tries will be disintegrated before it can break the atmosphere. That's where you come in. Everyone knows who I work for, so if I'm the one busting heads to get those codes, there'll be a battalion of Sith troops knocking in Davik's door the next day. I need someone to get those codes for me."

Bastila folded her arms and gazed at the Mandalorian suspiciously. "And you've chosen us for this partnership. Why?"

"Look, I know who you two are. You've got more reason to get off this planet than I do." Canderous stopped as the lights suddenly shut off completely. A man's voice thundered in over the loudspeakers. The dueling arena was fully enclosed, so his voice echoed throughout the entire stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer yelled, theatrically pronouncing nearly every word spoken into the microphone, "Draw your eyes to the center ring! We have a very special presentation in store for you!" This early in the opening and his voice was already starting to annoy.

Canderous motioned to the circular stage below them, where Gaius saw two people walk in through openings on opposite sides of the stage. The Mandalorian had secured prime seating for the fight, with one duelist starting off on their right and the other on their left.

"In this corner is a thirty-year veteran of the sport!" A spotlight highlighted the duelist to their right, an older man holding an electro staff. "With an impressive record of ninety-seven wins to twelve losses, and wielding the same dueling stick he used in his rookie fight, I give you…" there was a pause for dramatic effect, "Marl!" Gaius nearly laughed at the anticlimax of the duelist's name. The man stepped forward into the arena and waved briefly to the crowd. He placed one end of his electrostaff the ground and leaned on it like a walking stick.

"In the other corner is a new riser in the ranks, looking to make a name for herself in the big leagues in her fourth fight on Taris. She has steal in her bones, and frozen water in her veins. She's cold and quick as death itself! You know her, you love her…" he paused again, and Gaius wondered when this introduction would end. "Ice!" The young woman on the opposite end of the stage from Marl walked forward. She held a blaster pistol in her hand, and had what looked like a stun button hanging off her hip.

A large number "10" appeared as a light in the middle of the floor. It slowly counted down until an ear-piercing buzzer sounded off the beginning of the fight.

Gaius, Bastila, and Canderous turned back to their meeting, ignoring the fight below. Canderous spoke, continuing his thought from before the announcer's interruption. "Knowing who you are, I'm sure you're up to the task. You supply the launch codes, and I'll provide a ship that can run the Sith blockade."

Bastila's expression didn't change. "Why do we need you to supply a ship? We could simply acquire these codes on our own and not risk associating with you."

Canderous shrugged his shoulders, "If you had a lead on a ship, you wouldn't have come. The Sith impounded everything they could find when they invaded the planet and started the quarantine. Besides, you can't just fly any ship out of here. Those codes will get you past the auto-targeting lasers, but you'll still need something fast enough to get you past the blockade of Sith ships surrounding the planet."

Bastila still did not appear impressed. "And what ship do you plan on supplying that can do this?"

A cheer broke out from the crowd before either Bastila or Gaius could react. A blaster bolt had struck Marl and in the leg. He was supporting himself with the electro staff, but Ice was taking aim for another shot.

The second shot found Marl's head and he collapsed to the ground. The audience's cheers grew to a roar and two men ran out to recover Marl from the center of the arena.

"What a barbaric sport," the Jedi muttered.

"The stage has energy suppressors which make sure no one dies. They haven't had a death match since the beginning of the war, the Republic outlawed them." True to the Mandalorian's word, Marl was already up and walking around the outer edge of the stage. "As far as the ship, I'll tell you about that in due time. You bring me the Sith launch codes, then we'll start talking about the transportation."

A new countdown appeared in the middle of the arena. "Round two!" the announcer proclaimed, inciting a new round of applause from the crowd.

Bastila feigned contempt for the applause, rolling her eyes at the audiences' growing cheers. Gaius suspected her reaction was more related to Canderous's lack of information about his supposed escape plan. "I see no reason to ally ourselves with you if that is how you are going to conduct negotiations," she stated once the round started and the cries died down, "I am sorry, but we are not interested in this deal."

She began to stand, but Canderous grabbed her arm. The scowl on Bastila's face as she stared at the Mandalorian was acidic enough to melt the metal off a space freighter. She wrenched her arm from his grasp, but he didn't flinch. "We need each other for this. You and I both want to get the hell off this planet. So, unless you have a better plan, I suggest you stay and listen."

Bastila remained standing, glaring at the Mandalorian. Gaius leaned back in his chair. Up until this point, he'd let Bastila lead the conversation. She was the commander and he had other thoughts occupying him. But if she was ready to walk away from their only lead off the planet, it was time to speak up, "Say we wanted to get these codes. How would we do that?"

Canderous kept looking at the Jedi, but answered Gaius's question, "Every Sith officer should have the codes on them. You'll have to find one that isn't travelling with a guard. Or you can just be ready for a fight."

Bastila turned to Gaius, "We are leaving, I am not comfortable placing my life in the hands of this man."

Canderous laughed, "I could say the same about you. Truth is, we need each other. You need a ship, and I need those launch codes. We work together, and maybe we'll actually find a way off this planet. Besides, do you have a better plan?"

The three were silent as the crowd began another round of cheers. On the center stage, Marl and Ice were struggling over his electro staff. Bright bursts of electricity illuminated them both. Ice was trying to twist the staff in the old man's hand so that she could use the weapon against him. Suddenly, Marl released his grip on the weapon, causing Ice to lose her balance. The crowd roared as Marl took advantage of the situation. He launched himself forward, tackling her to the ground and knocking his staff loose.

The cheers died down after a buzzer sounded and the two fighters ended their struggle. Bastila remained standing, but her expression softened. "We'll consider your offer, Mandalorian," she said.

"Round three!"

Canderous smirked, "I hope you do. When you have those codes, go to a Javyyar's Cantina. Anyone in the Lower City can tell you where it is. Talk with the bartender1 and say you have a gift for me. He'll know what you're talking about."

Bastila nodded, and motioned for Gaius to leave. The Jedi inched past him before he was able to stand, but he didn't rush to follow her. A sly grin came across his face. "By the way," Gaius said as he stood, "there weren't any more mines."

Canderous looked confused for a moment, before he started laughing. He was still doing so as Gaius and Bastila left the arena. They did not speak to each other until they were once again away from the crowd and inside the garage.

The roar of the audience grew to its loudest pitch as they reached the speeder. "Ice is knocked out cold!" the announcer's voice echoed into the enclosed space. Bastila shook her head as she hopped into the speeder.

Gaius hesitated before getting in, though. Being in this spot, he could only think of his earlier conversation with Bastila, and all the theories the revelation implied. "What you said earlier," he began while stepping into the speeder, "would it explain… I mean, I had dreams, or visions, I guess."

Bastila's hand rested on the ignition, but she stopped before pressing it, "Visions? What do you mean?"

"It was you. I think." He was sure it was her, but thought that would be odd to say. The woman in gold was absolutely Bastila. Same short, brown hair, fair skin, and piercing eyes. The expression on her face was the same, too.

The Jedi looked away, as if she was avoiding eye contact. "I do not believe now is the time to talk of this. It is something I shall… I shall have to discuss with the Jedi council. I am sorry that I have put this on you, and I am sure you have many questions now that I cannot answer. Please understand that it is for the best." Without waiting for Gaius to respond, Bastila gunned the engines of the speeder and took off, flying up and out of the garage.

The trip back to the Black Vulkar's base was a blur. Gaius once again spent the trip lost in thought. He tried to focus on how they would get off Taris, or how they'd get the Sith launch codes, but he always ended up coming back to thoughts about the force.

If he could feel it, could he use it? Jedi were able to move things with their minds, they could avoid blaster bolts because they knew where they would strike. Would he be able to do all those things as well?

When he did manage to focus on their conversation with Canderous, his thoughts on how to get the launch codes were more specific. His hand reached into his pocket, where he kept the piece of paper that could be their key to getting those codes. If it came to it, Gaius would do whatever was necessary to get Bastila safely off Taris.

It was nightfall when they finally arrived at the base, or at least as far as Gaius could tell. There was no way to determine what time of day it was in the Lower City without looking at clock. Hardly any sunlight made it down past the great walkways and tall buildings of the Upper City, and what little that did was quickly drowned out by the multitude of white, fluorescent lights that covered the planet's lower levels.

The hallway leading to the Hidden Beks' base was more heavily guarded than it had been the past several days. More than half a dozen gang members sat outside with their blasters trained down the passageway. Most of them were tentative about letting Gaius and Bastila back through, but one of the guards recognized them and convinced the others to let them through.

What felt like the entire Hidden Beks gang was packed into the main room of the base. A thick wall of bodies blocked them from getting through to Carth's room. Gaius practically shoved his way past several Niktos, one elbowing him on each side, as he pushed his way through person after person. It reminded him of trying to get to the bar at the cantina, but oddly smellier and without the promise of Tarisian ale at the end.

He wasn't sure if Bastila tried to tell him something. It was difficult to hear over the shouts of the gang, who seemed to all be yelling at once. Even those who sported splints or bandages, revealing large wounds from the fight were getting their say in.

Zaerdra was the only person in the crowd that Gaius recognized. She was standing on something, probably a desk or chair, and trying to quiet down the mob. Her lips moved, but nothing she said could be heard over the shouts and yells. Gaius supposed the gang had reason to be so disorderly. Their leader had been killed that morning and their turf wars were about to become even more violent than they already had been. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible, though he wasn't about to start concerning himself with the problems of some swoop gang.

Slowly pushing their way through the room, Gaius and Bastila managed to reach the hall where Carth and the rest of their group was staying. The crowd didn't spill too far into the hall, though the final line or so of people pushed hardest against the mass. Once breaking through that line, they no longer had to shove people out of their way just to move forward.

Lining the walls of the hallway were more members of the Hidden Beks, those who were too injured from the fighting to join the mob in the main room. It was clear from their bandaging that a professional, likely Zelka, had a hand in treating them.

A woman with an injured leg laid in front of the door to Carth's room. Gaius first mistook her as human, but a second glace exposed the tattoos along her face and olive skin. She stared him down as he and Bastila approached.

"Are you going in?" her voice was bitter.

Gaius nodded in response, disregarding her tone. "Do you need help?" the white bandages tied around her leg did not hide the gashing wound that stretched across the entirety of her outer thigh.

She continued to stare at him, "Not from you."

Showing remarkable strength given her condition, the woman lifted herself up. Stading on her good leg and using the wall for support, she managed to move out of the doorway on her own. Once out of the doorway, she rested her back on the wall and gradually slide to the floor so she was seated a little more than a meter from where she'd been. Gaius glanced around the hall, and for the first time, noticed that most of the injured gang members were glaring at him. He looked away, sliding the door open and stepping into the room.

"How did it go?" Carth's familiar voice came from inside. He was standing on the far side of the room, wearing his orange jacket. It completely covered the bandages wrapped around his chest, hiding any evidence he'd been shot. If Gaius didn't known better, he'd think the Captain was in perfect health.

"It went about as well you'd expect," Gaius answered grimly.

Bastila closed the door behind them. "The Mandalorian's offer was not an enticing one. He requested that we capture a Sith officer in order to obtain launch codes to bypass the planetary defenses."

"He said that if we brought him the codes, he'd supply a ship that could run the Sith blockade." Gaius sat on the bed. He was exhausted after running around half the planet today.

"How he would supply this ship, he could not say." Bastila stood near the entryway, as if she was expecting someone to come in. "I declined his offer. An alliance with a man like that is not one I desire to make at this time."

"Well," Gaius interrupted, "we left the option open. Canderous told us how to find him if we change our minds." Carth nodded and scratched at his torso, where the bandages were hidden under his jacket. "How are you feeling, Sir?"

The Captain shrugged, "I've been worse." He turned to the Jedi, "Are we certain we're not following through with the Mandalorian? Did he offer anything else?"

Gaius shook his head, "Nothing else. He said to bring him the launch codes and he'd tell us the rest afterword." He closed his eyes for a few seconds when he was done talking. That was a mistake, sitting on the bed had only strengthened the urge to lie down and rest.

"There would be nothing stopping him from leading us into a trap and taking the codes for himself, or for -" Bastila paused at the sound of a sharp knock on the door. She opened the door without looking outside, and closed it once Mission and Zaalbar were in.

"Good, you're back," Mission didn't wait for anyone to great her, "Things are getting intense out there. It might be time to find some new housing before things get worse." The young Twi'lek strutted to the bed and motioned for Gaius to move over before taking a spot at the foot.

"What did you find out, Mission?" Carth asked.

The teenager scooched back so that she could rest her legs on the bed. "Well, they're trying to figure out who's gonna replace Gadon. Zaerdra thinks that she should take over cause she was number two. But most of the gang want Anglu to take charge since she's the best racer."

"Was anyone talking about us out there?" Gaius recalled the people staring at him in the hall.

Mission smirked, "Other than the guys saying that it's your fault Gadon's dead? Like I said, it might be time to find a new place to stay. Soon."

"«That's just some people,»" Zaalbar added, "«If you didn't do what you did, I would still be in a cage.»" At least the Wookiee appreciated their actions, even if the rest of the Hidden Beks – and Bastila – didn't. Gaius noted that what Mission hadn't said was whether or not the gang also blamed her helping them at the track. That was a question best left unasked, though.

Carth folded his arms across his chest, likely to stop himself from scratching the bandages, "Is there somewhere else we could go? Gaius and I have idents to get past the Sith checkpoints to the Upper City, but they're specifically looking for Bastila. I wouldn't even try getting her past them right now."

"What if we go along with Canderous's plan?" Gaius suggested before Mission could answer. It annoyed him that they had dismissed their best shot of getting off the planet without much thought. "If he has a ship, we won't have to worry about hiding or finding a new place to stay." He knew that his comrades already made up their minds about the plan, but he wasn't convinced that finding another way of Taris was a better option than joining forces with the Mandalorian.

"It's not worth the risk," Carth replied. From his expression, he wasn't happy that Gaius had brought them back to that conversation. "Even in our current situation. We're not that desperate right now."

"Then where are we going to go?" Gaius's head shifted between the Jedi and the Captain, waiting for one of them to respond.

Bastila sighed, "For now, finding a place where the Sith, and," she paused and glanced toward Mission, "Other enemies might not find us." Everyone in the room knew who she was referring to. From the Twi'lek's report, their arrangement with the Hidden Beks was in question.

"I agree," Carth confirmed, "We've already overstayed our welcome here, and we found Bastila. It's time to move on." He was right about that, at least. If the Beks were about to have a miniature civil war over who succeeded Gadon, it was time to leave.

"Private Koy is unlikely to survive her injuries for much longer," Bastila spoke without a hint of emotion. "When she passes, so to shall we." The room was in silent agreement.

Gaius didn't want to think about the dying soldier. Though it was technically Carth's decision, Gaius was the one who convinced the Captain that focusing their efforts on saving Bastila was the priority. When Koy died, it would be on his hands.

The rest of the evenings' discussion revolved around potential hideouts. Mission and Zaalbar both knew of a few abandoned apartment buildings where people could lay low for a while. No one had any ideas about getting off the planet, though.

The Hidden Beks showed no signs of quieting down as the small group decided to rest for the night. Mission offered Bastila a space in her room, and when the door opened, the shouts from outside echoed around the room until it was closed behind them.

Gaius rested on Carth's bed. He tried to sleep, but it didn't come easy. His mind bounced back and forth between everything that had happened over the course of a single day. They'd finally rescued Bastila, even if she didn't see it that way. Then she told him that he could feel the force. And, now that they finally had a way off the planet, neither the Captain nor the Jedi wanted to accept the Mandalorian's offer.

Gaius opened his eyes to what he thought were voices inside the room, though he couldn't remember anyone coming in. Carth had been the only one in here when he lied down. Keeping his eyes half-closed, he peered around the room and saw the Captain whispering quietly with someone who was standing just out of view. Gaius must have fallen asleep at some point, or else he would have heard the door when the person came inside.

After a few more minutes of whispering Zaerdra finally stepped into view, leaning forward to hug Carth before tiptoeing out of the room. Gaius shifted in the bed once the door slid closed, pretending to have just woken up, turning over before finally sitting up on the bed.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

Carth was still standing where he'd been before Zaerdra left. "Late."

Gaius rubbed his eyes and stood. The gang seemed to have quieted down outside; it was far quieter when Zaerdra opened the door than it had been when Bastila and Mission left. He wondered what the Captain possibly could have been discussing with the potential gang leader, but knew that he wouldn't be told until it was relevant. Like finding out how Carth had gotten the idents, it would be a waste of effort to ask. "You can have the bed, I'm going to step outside."

The Captain didn't argue with him. Other than the bed, the only other place to sleep was the small chair, and that would not be the most comfortable way to spend the night. "Just be careful," Carth warned, "I think they've settled down, but these aren't people you want to make any angrier than they already are." Gaius nodded and patted his empty holster to check for the weapon which had been missing since he'd passed out at the track. Carth noticed his actions and reached under the bed. From its hiding spot somewhere under the bedroll, Carth pulled out a pistol, which he handed to Gaius. "Don't lose it."

Gaius nodded and slipped through the doorway, letting Carth rest. The hallway was nearly empty, although a few of the injured gang members were still sleeping along the walls. None of them awoke when Gaius passed by, and he even became concerned about whether one of them, an Aqualish, was breathing or if he had passed away from his injuries. Those concerns were allayed when the alien let out a loud snorting sound, like a brass instrument, before rolling over.

Moving forward, the main room of the base was completely deserted. The desk which had been near the front entrance was now lying overturned toward the center of the room.

Gaius stood in the center of the room for a moment, thinking. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the folded papers which had been there since leaving the Upper City. One was handed to him by Carth the day they passed through the Sith checkpoint. The other was left for him on a bed in a Sith officer's apartment.

He wasn't sure what consequences would await him if he did what he was contemplating doing. Even if it worked and they escaped Taris, there might still be a court martial in his future for disobeying an order, even an implied one.

Gaius looked back to the hall, where Carth and Bastila slept in separate rooms. Further on in the base, Private Koy was sleeping for what might be the final time. He thought about the charge the Private gave him. He was a Jedi Guard, and his top priority was protecting Bastila. Koy was proof of that; he'd given her life to rescue the Jedi. He would have to give his own if it came to it.

His mind made up, Gaius left the base. He would need to find a public communicator somewhere on the streets.


	13. Under Different Circumstances

**Chapter 12: Under Different Circumstances**

The hotel room was cheap for the Upper City. Gaius still had enough pazaak winnings to cover it for the rest of the evening. Unlike the outside of the building, there wasn't a single design in the room. The walls, bed, nightstand, even the chair he was sitting on were all monotone colors. Not that any of it mattered. Impressing Sarna was far from his goal tonight.

Gaius shifted in his seat, causing the cold metal of the blaster to press against his skin. He felt sick thinking about it.

Sarna was so excited that he'd called her. When she answered, only her head was shown on the public holophone. "Oh, it's you," she'd said.

The hologram had shimmered, disappearing for a moment before reappearing, revealing her entire body. Sarna was wearing a towel and smiling wickedly, the small blue hologram exposing everything to the streets of the Lower City. He asked if she could meet tonight, almost hoping Sarna would say she had a shift, or another commitment, or just didn't want to see him.

She didn't have another commitment, and she did want to see him. Now Gaius sat, staring at the door of the hotel room, waiting for her to knock.

The minutes ticked by slowly, until nearly half an hour had passed from when he'd taken up his watch. He thought about calling her over the small holophone sitting on the far side of the bed, atop of the nightstand. Maybe she wasn't able to make it, after all. He could still slip back to the Hidden Beks' Base before anyone noticed he was missing. Most of them might still be asleep.

No. He had to be resolute. This was his decision. It was their way off the planet, and he wasn't going to abandon it now.

Resolve did nothing to ease the pain of waiting, though. Gaius wrung his hands around each other. More than once he reached back to check the blaster, as if expecting it to have vanished while he wasn't paying attention. He started to notice how cold it was in the room; a draft was blowing through a crack in the window on the other side of the bed. Gaius tried to shake the concern and focus. He came here to complete a mission.

His mind wandered more than once. Sometimes to thoughts of feeling the force, as Bastila told him he could, other times to the Jedi herself, sleeping at the Hidden Bek base. He thought of Trask, Koy, and the soldiers of the _Endar Spire_ who'd given their lives to protect one Jedi. More than any of those, though, he played out how his encounter with the Sith office would go. He would hold up his weapon after she walked in, tell her to give him the launch codes, and he would leave. He wouldn't fire a shot unless he had to. Simple.

Three light taps rattled from the door, before it slid open automatically. On the other side stood Sarna, the Sith officer. Her light brown hair flowed down her back, rather than being tied behind her head like when they'd met. She wore a gray dress, the same color as an officer's uniform but certainly not formal military clothing. It hugged at her waist, clearly chosen for what she believed this meeting was for. If Gaius had not known better, never would have believed this woman was a Sith lieutenant.

Sarna smiled as the doors shut behind her and made a joke about delivering him something from the kitchens downstairs. Gaius barely responded, forcing out a short laugh. He couldn't fake a smile.

"Well, why did you call me here?" she flirted, reaching forward and grabbing both of his hands. She pulled Gaius out of the seat and wrenched him close. Hugging his waist, she leaned forward, kissing him. He kissed back, trying to hide his nervousness. Her hands were placed just above the blaster hidden in his waistband, nearly touching it.

They released their kiss, and without thinking, Gaius shoved Sarna away from him. She fell backwards onto the bed, laughing at what she believed was his teasing.

Her expression changed when she saw the gun Gaius was pointing at her. A smile faded into an exasperated stare, and every muscle in her body tensed. Sarna's eyes fixated on the barrel of the blaster pistol pointed between them.

Gaius couldn't do anything but breathe. Words escaped him as the weight of what he was doing hit him in the gut like a swoop at full speed. He could not look away from Sarna's eyes, frozen as they were, aimed at the weapon which was aimed at them.

Was this a mistake? Sarna was a Sith, but she trusted him. She had been kind to him, and Gaius repaid her with betrayal. What was she thinking now? There was no way the Sith knew why he was holding a gun over her. He had to say something.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say. The gun remained where it was, though the tension in Sarna's body slowly dwindled. She pushed herself further onto the bed, being certain not to make any sudden moves.

"Because I'm a Sith?" her voice was deadpan, as if understanding Gaius's motivations before he spoke them.

He shook his head while keeping his eyes fixated on hers. This wasn't a mistake, but he would make one if he didn't act as he'd been planning for nearly an hour. "Because you have the launch codes."

Sarna looked up, her eyes cutting into his. The corners of her mouth curled upward into the same grin she'd used to seduce him when they first met. "You found Bastila."

She knew. She had to know who he was. He'd told her his real name, and there must have been a crew manifest from the _Endar Spire_. She knew he was a Republic Officer.

Gaius tightened his grip on the blaster, feeling less sure about his actions by the second, but determined to carry them through. He couldn't admit to anything. Not yet. "I need to get off this planet."

Sarna shook her head so slightly it was nearly unnoticeable. "You found the Jedi."

"There's no Jedi," Gaius lied, "I want off this planet. I need to leave Taris. And I need the codes to do that." Sarna continued moving her head, her large eyes fixed on Gaius's.

"You know, you could have at least waited until we finished," her eyes drifted to the surface of the bed. "Besides," her voice turned cold, "I don't have the codes."

Gaius took a step forward. She was a Sith. Sith lie. "Every officer has the codes."

Sarna nearly started to laugh, but visibly stifled the urge, only short huffs escaping her lips. "Do I look like I'm in uniform?"

She didn't. Gaius should have realized before she even walked into the room. Sarna's outfit didn't have pockets, and she hadn't brought a bag, pack, or any means of carrying around a datapad besides her own two hands. It was just her and the gray dress.

Gaius didn't know how to respond. He had already revealed his deception. There would never be a second shot at getting the codes without ambushing a Sith patrol, and that was unlikely to end well. Not on a Sith-occupied planet.

He back away from the bed, sitting back in the chair. He kept the blaster aimed at the Sith officer. Sarna began to stand, but Gaius stiffened his arm, making sure she was aware that his guard had not dropped.

"Call someone," he ordered, ending his silence.

Sarna displayed only confusion, "What? Who?"

"You're going to call another officer. And tell them to come here," it was the only thing Gaius could think of at this point. He was already holding one Sith hostage to get those codes, bringing a second one to the hotel could only increase the risk marginally from here.

Sarna's expression didn't change. "Think through this-" she paused, as if trying to read his thoughts, "who can I call this late? And how will I explain why I want them to meet me at a hotel?"

"Don't say I'm the only one you do this with," he gestured around the room.

She grinned. There was a blaster pointed at her head and she was smiling. That had to be a bad sign. "You wouldn't believe that you are?" she asked coyly.

"No." He couldn't lose control of the situation like this. "And if I am, then pick someone." Gaius waived the blaster pistol toward the holophone on the far side of the bed. She couldn't think that he would not fire if it was necessary.

Sarna shrugged, a slight grin still noticeable on her lips. "Whatever you say."

The Sith was taking this far too lightly for Gaius's comfort, but she did what he told her to. Standing and walking slowly around the bed, she began dialing a number into the communicator. "If that's an emergency number you're-"

"Don't worry, it's not." The blue hologram sputtered to life, the head and torso of a woman appearing through the static along with part of a chair behind her.

"Identification number?" she stated. The hologram was just barely loud enough for Gaius to hear across the room.

Sarna cleared her throat before responding, "Zero, three. One, one, three, eight." She gave Gaius a side-eye while she listed off her officer's identification. He waved the blaster in his hand noticeably enough that she would remember it was still pointed her direction.

The holographic woman looked down to an off-screen computer before commenting, "Hello, Lieutenant Ketra. How may I assist you today?"

Sarna turned towards Gaius, contemplating what to say. "I need to speak with another officer," she turned back to the hologram, "Number one, nine, nine, two, zero, eight. Could you patch me through?"

Gaius's eyes narrowed. He should have made her confirm who she was calling before letting her dial, but this was all going too fast to think of everything on the fly.

"I'm sorry," the woman over the holophone said, "Officer 199208 is currently off duty."

Sarna glared at the hologram, "I'm aware of that. Patch my call through to his personal quarters."

The woman in the hologram hesitated. "You… You are aware of the standing order not to be disturbed-"

"Yes, I am aware," Sarna spat back, "I am also aware that he would very much like to hear the contents of my call. Now patch me through."

Several long seconds passed. "Yes, ma'am," the woman's image immediately sputtered and disappeared.

The holophone was silent as they waited the transfer. Gaius leaned forward to hear the holophone better. He wasn't sure whether thinking through what he was in the process of doing was beneficial or harmful. He had to stay on top of the situation, but being aware of it only made him realize how out of control the evening had become.

A crackle and the appearance of another blue figure interrupted his thoughts. "Lieutenant, there had better be a good reason for waking me at this hour." The Sith officer was bald, as far as Gaius could tell from the hologram, which accentuated his long head and narrow face. Only the Sith's torso was visible in the hologram, so little else about the man was revealed.

Sarna continued in the tone of voice she seemed to use for every conversation, "Sir, I believe you will find my reasons to be quite adequate."

"And what would they be?"

Sarna grinned, "Come to the hotel on the north end of the Largo Terrace. Room twenty-sixteen."

The man in the hologram's eyes widened in surprise. "Leiutenant? Are you suggesting that-"

"Yes," Sarna cut him off, "But if you are declining I suppose-"

"No no no," the officer stammered through the holophone. He coughed and composed himself before continuing, "I will meet you on the Largo Terrace in half a standard hour."

"I look forward to it, Sir." Sarna leaned down to end the call. Gaius snapped his fingers several times, trying to get her attention while not getting picked up by the holophone's audio transmitter. After the third snap, she looked his way.

" _The codes,_ " he mouthed, silently.

She nodded. "Sir, before I forget," the man, who was previously looking down to turn off his own hologram, snapped up. "Bring you uniform for our shift tomorrow. It will be more convenient than returning to quarters."

"Ah, yes, very well," the Sith replied, dumbfounded. "Good thinking, Lieutenant."

"And, Sir," Sarna began, again, before he could end the transmission, "Until our shift starts, it's Sarna."

The man forced a laugh at her comment, but clearly wasn't certain if that was the proper reaction. At last, the image disappeared, shrinking into the holophone. The dim light which had brightened that corner of the room faded.

"Who was that?" Gaius asked, realizing it was a question he should have made clear before she'd called. Too late, now.

Sarna smirked and sat with one leg up on the far side of the bed. "Just another officer who's been giving me extra glances at the base. I knew he would come without any problems. No need for this to be…" she looked to the blaster Gaius still held, "unpleasant." She reached up and began to tie her hair back. Sarna's demeanor still uneased Gaius, she'd acted far too willingly with what he'd asked her to do. Still, it was impossible to predict how someone would react with a blaster in their face, and he wondered if he would behave any different.

"Now we wait," Gaius instructed, as if it were not already obvious. Sarna finished tying her hair, then shrugged and folded her arms. Gaius wasn't entirely certain how far he should believe the Sith officer about who she had called, but there wasn't much choice but to wait.

Once again, Gaius found himself sitting in the chair, staring at the door. This time, however, he felt unusually calm. He wondered why he wasn't worried about the new wrench in his plans, when he'd practically been shaking earlier. When Sarna was the Sith he expected to walk into the room, the anticipation had been agonizing. For some reason, he now felt ready for whoever was coming.

"Where did you find her?" Sarna asked suddenly, snapping Gaius from his thoughts.

He'd partially been hoping that they could wait in silence. "Find who?"

Her face read that she was finished with his farce. "You know who."

"No, I don't." He wasn't ready to stop denying it.

Sarna laughed. "You are a stubborn one, Ensign Starr." That peaked Gaius's attention, when they met, he'd said that he left the Republic Academy after the Mandalorian Wars ended. He certainly never told her that he had a rank, or what it was. "You should learn to hide what you're thinking," she snickered.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The game was up, but he wasn't done playing. There was no use giving her more information than she already had.

"You know," she said, pulling her other leg onto the bed, "I knew you were a Republic officer when we met. Gaius stayed quiet, focusing on maintaining a straight face. "The higher-ups made us memorize the names on your ship's crew manifest. Those we hadn't confirmed killed, at least."

He silently cursed himself for telling her his real name. There was no way he could have known that they were memorizing the _Endar Spire's_ crew. And he'd had a lot of ale that evening.

"If you thought I was an officer when we met in the cantina," he finally replied, "you would have arrested me long before we got to your quarters." Gaius stood from his chair and walked to the other side of the bed, standing at the foot and just out of Sarna's reach in case she tried anything funny.

"I didn't think it was worth the effort to turn you in. You're just an ensign. We were looking for a Jedi." She moved across the bed towards the chair when Gaius waived her to. "Besides," she turned back to face him as she stood on the other side, "you were nice." It was a mean trick. She was trying to guilt him into making a mistake.

Gaius stood on the opposite wall from the door, and Sarna sat in the chair with her legs crossed. When the other officer walked in, he wouldn't have a chance to react to Gaius's presence. Hopefully.

Sarna sat silently for some time. She kept shifting her focus around the room. Sometimes staring at the door, sometimes at Gaius. Other times, her gaze seemed to drift to nowhere in particular. Gaius wasn't sure if she was lost in thought, or planning some way to turn the tables on him.

For his part, Gaius stood in his corner, keeping his eyes on both the Sith officer and the door, waiting for her friend to arrive. He kept the blaster in his hand, but didn't see any reason to tire his arm out by continuously holding it towards Sarna. If she tried anything, he could have a shot off before she could reach him.

He was tired, mentally and physically. Other than the hour or two at the base, the stress of the past few days and his current situation hadn't provided much time to rest. There wasn't much to do but reflect on what was happening, either. He felt some guilt for tricking Sarna into becoming his captive, but those launch codes were the only way off the planet. And, from what Sarna had said, the Sith knew more than he and Carth realized.

"Tell me," Sarna said, turning her attention back to him after the extended silence. "Why do you fight for the Republic?"

"I'm sorry?" The half hour was almost up, and Gaius was trying to mentally prepare for the Sith officer's arrival.

"I'm interested in why a soldier would keep fighting for it." She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. Sarna was treating the hostage situation with indignance rather than fear.

He chose not to respond, trying to judge the angle someone walking in through the door would see him in the corner of the room. Still seated, Sarna rolled her eyes at his lack of conversation.

"Is it that you don't know?" she pried.

Gaius was starting to get annoyed. This was just a distraction from where his attention needed to be. "It's that I don't want to talk about in our current situation."

"Well, if you're just going to sulk in the corner, I'll answer your question."

"I didn't ask a question."

"But if you answered, you'd then would ask why I fight for the Sith." Gaius tried to ignore her, even if the question had occurred to him. He still wished she'd shut up, though. This was just an unnecessary distraction. "Do you know the last planet to be attacked by the Mandalorians before the Republic decided to fight back?"

"No." He didn't want to play her little game, but answering was almost a reflex.

"We're standing on it. Before the Mandalorian Wars, Taris was the center of trade between the Core Worlds and the Outer Rim. It wasn't until the Mandalorians threatened the Senate's bank accounts that they decided to stop them from slaughtering entire planets."

"Doesn't sound far off from what the Sith are doing." Damn. He was letting her reel him in.

"When we attack a planet, we're liberating it. Not destroying it." She shifted in her chair. "The Republic would have lost the Mandalorian Wars if Revan and Malak hadn't gotten involved. The rest of the Jedi were willing to let us burn to the ground."

Gaius had heard most of this same story from Sith propaganda over the past few years. "So you followed your leaders to war."

"No. Well, technically, yes. But that wasn't why I followed. I followed because the Republic is weak and corrupt. It won't survive the next Mandalorian or whatever war. But the Sith Empire? We'll win." She leaned forward in her chair as she spouted the philosophy Gaius didn't ask to hear. For some reason, he thought of the anti-alien preacher from the Upper City. "It's as simple as that, really. The galaxy will be stronger and safer under the Sith. None of the Senate's corruption or bureaucracy, or Jedi who refuse to fight for the people their supposed to-."

The door swished opened suddenly; Gaius had forgotten to lock it after Sarna arrived. He barely had time to react, and Sarna's speech made him hesitate. He pressed himself into the corner to avoid being instantly spotted. "Is everything alright?" the officer's voice came from outside as he strode into the room. He wore the normal, dark gray uniform of a Sith officer, but with a long black cloak stretching down his shoulders. "I heard voices from inside."

"That would be me." Gaius said, taking a step out from the far corner of the room, holding his blaster out.

The Sith officer whipped around, causing his cloak to flare out behind him. That's when Gaius saw the glint of metal on the officer's belt. The same color as a blaster, but long and narrow. A lightsaber.

Gaius fired at the Sith.

The hot, red blast struck him dead in the chest. The Sith staggered for a moment, one hand wandered toward where he'd been hit, the other reaching for his belt. Gaius fired twice more. The Sith jerked as each blast struck him, once in the leg, then in the shoulder. He collapsed onto his knees, gasping for air.

His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide with fear. They seemed huge against the narrow features of his head. He was confused, his eyes darted back and forth between the other two people in the room.

His breathing became less stable, his gasps shallower with each passing second. Sarna was out of her chair, holding his back, keeping him from falling over. She comforted the Sith as every breath became shallower than the last, and his eyes began to close. Eventually, all strength left him, and Sarna was forced to let him fall to the ground under his own weight. Gaius hadn't intended on killing anyone tonight. He'd hoped the whole ordeal would be completed without bloodshed. But seeing the lightsaber, and after what happened to Trask, he just reacted.

She kneeled on the floor over the dead Sith. Gaius stepped cautiously around the bed, keeping his weapon trained on both of them, ready to fire in case this was some trick. Sarna's hand was under the Sith's head, she leaned forward to hear his breath. When she closed her eyes, Gaius knew what she determined.

"Do you know who he was?" she asked, calmly. Gaius had expected her to sound more shaken after witnessing a fellow officer die.

"No." All Gaius knew was that the man was a Sith, or a Dark Jedi, or whatever they were called. That must be why Sarna chose to call him; why she'd been so casual about baiting Gaius's trap. She didn't think Gaius would be any match for a true Sith.

Sarna's gaze drifted upwards into his. "He was the Sith governor of Taris."

Gaius wasn't entirely sure if that meant what it implicated. He tried not to think about it. Anything but the codes were irrelevant right now. Those blasted numbers were why he'd set out on this disastrous evening. "Does he have the codes on him?"

"Did you not hear me? He's the Sith's Governor for the entire planet," she repeated. "You just killed a Sith."

Gaius didn't know how to respond, or how she respected him to respond. "I just need the launch codes."

Sarna looked down and reached into the breast pocket of the Sith's uniform. She pulled out a small datapad, about the size of a keycard, and tossed it to Gaius. He caught it with both hands, trying not to drop it. He quickly fumbled his blaster around to keep it pointed on her before she noticed it wasn't.

"I suppose this is it, then," Sarna bent her head down over her fallen comrade. "Make it quick."

Gaius was taken aback by this statement. Sure, he'd killed one Sith officer, but that was because he had a lightsaber. It wasn't his intention to kill anyone. "Get up," he ordered, "I'm not going to kill you."

"Yes, you will. Don't pretend. You know you won't make it off Taris if you let me live." She stayed put where she was, over the Sith's body. "I asked you kindly to make it quick."

Gaius shook his head and clicked the setting on his gun. He fired two quick shots into Sarna, the blue circles wrapping around her entire body. She fell backwards, away from the Sith's corpse. Gaius holstered his weapon and kneeled over her.

He'd planned on letting her be stunned on the bed, but time was running low. There was no way of knowing if anyone else in the hotel had heard the blaster shots. Hopefully she'd stay stunned long enough for him to get past the Sith checkpoint and back down to the Lower City before she called someone.

Bending forward, he turned Sarna onto her side, moving the chair to lean her against it. Stunning sometimes induced vomiting, and he didn't want her to choke before she came to. He felt bad that she would have to wake up next to the dead Sith, but there wasn't time to move her.

Gaius paused at the doorway, taking a deep breath for what felt like the first time in hours. He turned back to the scene he was leaving, Sarna lying on the ground, propped on her side, the dead Sith at her feet. If only he hadn't seen that weapon.

Gaius backed his way to the door. He fired a single shot at the holophone on his way out.


	14. Davik

**Author's Note: For those who read the previous chapter before this one was posted, I took out the last section where Gaius took the Sith's lightsaber.**

 **Chapter 13: Davik**

Captain Onasi was furious. Gaius knew he would be, and long beforehand prepared himself for the beratement he was currently receiving from the superior officer. He stood stone still at attention as Carth yelled loud enough that the echoes could be heard on the far ends of the base. If any of the Hidden Beks had been sleeping in, they weren't now. Gaius didn't believe he'd ever seen the Captain this upset, his face turned redder by the second. Gaius regretted telling Carth the whole story, but being surreptitious about information as important as this could be deadly.

"-risking all our lives on some rash decision, getting involved with a Sith officer and leaving another of them dead on the floor. Now they know we have Bastila, it's only a matter of time before the Sith start storming through the Lower City to find her, and it's all because you couldn't follow a simple order…"

Gaius was glad Mission and Bastila weren't here to witness this. To a lesser extent, the Wookiee, as well. From how close Mission's room was, though, they certainly could hear it.

The disciplining from the Captain wasn't even what formed the pit in Gaius's stomach. What distracted him now was the way he'd left Sarna, unconscious on the floor next to a dead Sith. It was necessary, he reassured himself. This is war, and the Sith were their enemy.

"-already surrounded by Sith troops that you've made worse. It was reckless and boneheaded. I have half a mind to court-martial you myself if we didn't need every available man we have-" The door behind Gaius opened with the high-pitched screech of metal scraping metal, cutting off the Captain's rant.

"I think he's heard quite enough, Carth," Bastila said as she walked into the room. "Ensign Starr will have to deal with the consequences of his actions," she glanced towards Gaius while saying his name, "but that can wait until after we have left this planet. You are right about our increased risk at the moment, and actions which address that should have priority." Bastila spoke peacefully. The night's rest, her first since being the Black Vulkar's captive must have been calming.

"We have the launch codes," Gaius began, hesitating to see if the Captain cut him off. He had cooled since Bastila entered the room, however. "The fastest way off this planet is with Canderous."

"I don't want to hear another word about-"

"Unfortunately, I agree," Bastila interrupted the Captain before his anger could resurface. Carth's eyes darted between the two of them. Gaius kept his mouth shut to let the Captain think.

"Do you trust the Mandalorian?" Carth asked, at last.

Bastila turned her head to Gaius. Her answer was already known to the group. "No," Gaius continued standing at attention. "But I trust him to act in his own self-interest."

The Captain nodded. "Okay." He didn't need to say anything else. The consequences of Gaius's actions would be waiting for them off-planet, but they needed to get moving.

It was settled, then, that Gaius would accompany Bastila to meet the Mandalorian. Carth was still recovering from his blaster wound and would only slow them down if things got hectic in an unknown location.

"Mission and her Wookiee friend will help me back to the apartment," he told them, though Gaius wasn't sure he'd heard the young girl agree to that. "We'll take Zelka with us, too. I think he's spent long enough stuck down here with swoop gangs."

"What about Koy?" Gaius probed, worried of the answer.

The room's silence told him everything he needed to know. "That's why we were awake when you returned," Bastila explained. Gaius sighed and forced the Private from his mind. He had begun mourning her before she passed, and there would be plenty of time to finish once they were off Taris.

None of the Hidden Beks, save Mission and Zaalbar, said a word to Gaius or Bastila as they left. Only Zaerdra, who was talking with someone near the base's entrance made eye contact with him on the way out. He wondered what became of Phirk, and whether the racer had figured out what he'd done to his swoop the previous day.

Mission provided directions to Javyar's Cantina. Canderous was correct when he claimed everyone in the Lower City would know how to find it. Even in the early hours of the morning, the place had crowds moving in and out, the speakers' soft jams escaping onto the streets as groups of every species spilled through the cantina doors. Though it was not nearly as packed as the Upper City Cantina Gaius visited, it was still noticeably busy for a bar this early in the morning.

The Gamorrean bouncer grunted at them as they walked under the neon-lighted entrance. He held a blaster rifle in his oversized hands, his fingers wrapping around the entire weapon. Despite the blaster, it was what looked to be a battle axe strapped over his back which caught passersby's' attention. Gaius wondered what sewer they found this pig in.

Once entering, it was clear that the Gamorrean was more than fitting for the occupants of Javyar's. Unlike the Upper City, the crowd here was anything but human. Right by the entrance, a table full of Bith, Sinteen, and some other large-headed, green aliens Gaius had never before encountered clamored over a card game and morning drinks. He caught Bastila staring at the brain-like heads of the Sinteen as she marched toward the bar.

The Jedi seemed uneasy here. No doubt it was her first time in a place like this. From Gaius's experience, Jedi preferred mediating on their problems to drinking on them. Gaius lightly tugged at her arm, indicating Bastila to slow down so he could walk in front. She let him brush by, following him through the entry hallway and into the main room.

Like the cantina in the Upper City, the bar was in the direct center of cantina. Most of the lights were turned up, though, to better suit a crowd nursing hangovers than one looking for a good time. It was at least empty enough that seats were available by the bar, though Gaius did have to ask a woman mostly covered in bright red fur, or perhaps feathers, to move a seat down. She responded by finishing her clear drink and leaving the bar entirely, making a hissing noise as Gaius took her place.

"Got anything to eat?" he asked the bartender, trying to make the man take notice of the two humans. He might have been the only other one of their species here.

"Something edible to our kind, I assume you're asking?" the bartender was tall and thin. When the bar's lights dimmed later in the evening, he might even be mistaken for an alien, himself. "I've got some marlello eggs that only take a second to cook." It had been ages since Gaius had a proper meal, just about anything sounded good right now.

"How can you think of food when we're-" Bastila started until Gaius kicked her under the bar. He tried to tell her something with his facial expression, raising his eyebrows and smiling. But, she simply looked confused.

"Lovebirds, I don't got all day," the bartender said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. The man emptied out several glasses while he waited, refilling them with a yellow liquid from a large tank on the floor. A purple gas started fuming over the tops of the cups once they were poured. A small Chadra-Fan snatched all three glasses and scuttled out of view. Bastila was still stuck on the bartender calling them 'lovebirds.'

"I'm sorry, we're not-"

Gaius interrupted her, again, "The eggs sound great. And two glasses on blue milk." The bartender shrugged and started up a small stove under the counter for the eggs. Gaius turned to Bastila, placing a hand on her back and leaning close to whisper. "Play it cool. No need to make this a scene."

Bastila gently pushed Gaius back into his own seat, "I'm perfectly capable of making such observations on my own, thank you. But, as I hope you are aware, time is not on our side. At the moment, haste is a more valuable asset than stealth."

The bartender arrived with their milk, looking suspiciously at their whispers. "Eggs 'll be just a second," he informed them. The thick, blue liquid sloshed in the cups when he set them on the table, nearly sending droplets over the side. Gaius smiled and pulled a couple credits from his pocket, dropping them on the table.

Bastila sipped her drink quietly, her head drifting in every direction, observing the room. A table of horned Gotals laughed loudly in the corner behind them. Some snake-like alien had accidently tripped a Duros, wrenching the drink from his hands to splatter over the guests at the next table. Bastila's eyes lingered on the Gotals' table before she spun back toward the bar.

The bartender shook his head as he returned with the eggs. "No breaks in this place, is there?" Gaius asked him.

"Not in my lifetime, there hasn't been. And the quarantine has even more of 'em in here than usual." He held out a utensil for Gaius to eat with, "Speaking 'ah which. What's two humans doin in Javyar's?"

Gaius smirked, but it was Batila who spoke. "We're here to see Canderous Ordo," she said in a half-whisper. With the music turned down, though, it was unlikely her statement went unheard.

The bartender's eyes swept from one end of the bar to the other before they returned to the Republic soldier and the Jedi. He leaned in, resting both elbows on the bar. His hands motioned them to do the same. "In the back room, 'hind me. Finish your food an' I'll let 'em know your comin."

"Thank you," Bastila said. Gaius was already digging into the eggs. They were burnt, and had a mild hint of tang after he swallowed, but a swig of the milk following each bite washed out the aftertaste. Bastila continued sipping quietly on her drink, though each gulp grew as time passed.

Eventually, Gaius's utensil scraped along the metal plate, signaling the end of the meal. He stood and finished the blue milk in a single gulp, tapping the Jedi on the back to let her know he was ready. Bastila left behind a swallow of milk in her glass as she trailed him to the room in the rear of the cantina.

The music was even quieter here, and only three or four people sat along the walls. All of them were armed, most noticeably the two Weequay suspiciously eyeing them from the corner, who each had ammo belts strapped across each shoulder. Bastila and Gaius stood in the center of the back room, surveying their whereabouts.

Then the Jedi tapped Gaius on the shoulder, turning him around. Tupalac, the Devaronian messenger, stood behind them, having arrived silently. He grinned the same as when they'd met.

"Canderous is very pleased to hear that you have accepted his offer," he spoke, softly enough that only the three of them could hear. Tupalac waived to the two Weequay in the corner, who visibly sighed and walked to where the rest of them stood. Each Weequay stood directly behind either Gaius or Bastila. The Weequay grabbed them, roughly patting down their arms and legs, seizing the blasters Gaius and Bastila kept on their hips. Once they were satisfied, the weapons were handed to Tupalac, though they did not step away from their posts behind the two Republic officers.

Placing the weapons in his belt with on hand, Tupalac held out the other, revealing two black pieces of cloth. Somehow, his grin spread even further across his face. "If you would kindly."

Gaius was not about to let three armed guards blindfold him. "After all the trouble I went through for him, I'm not putting on a-"

"Those will not be necessary," Bastila said calmly, waiving a hand to emphasize her meaning. Gaius shrugged, knowing that talking their way out of this probably wasn't an option. The Exchange didn't become the largest criminal organization in the galaxy by being careless.

"These will not be necessary," Tupalac replied, almost in a monotone voice. He folded the blindfolds and delicately placed them in his back pocket. "Please, follow me."

Gaius was dumbfounded. How did that work?

Tupalac walked to the far side of the room. He glanced over his shoulder before knocking on the wall three times. A moment passed before the hidden door began to open. The Weequay standing behind Gaius nudged him with the butt of a rifle. Bastila strode beside him as they followed Tupalac through the hidden doorway.

Inside was a small room, only a couple meters wide in either direction. The hidden door closed behind Gaius, and the floor suddenly lurched upward. An elevator.

Gaius tried earnestly to keep his mouth shut as the small elevator rose higher and higher. The question of what Bastila had done burned on his tongue, but Tupalac would hear anything he whispered to Bastila in this small space.

The cabin shook and the pressure grew as they rose. Gaius's ears popped twice before the ascent began to slow several minutes after it began. A doorway opened in front once the elevator gradually came to a halt. It had been a far smoother ride than the large, public elevator.

Tupalac lead them into a large chamber, an enourmous, windowless room. It was entirely empty, save for a lone chair at its center. Yet, from the raised, circular platform and intricate designs, it was more of a throne than a normal chair. The throne sat several feet above the rest of the floor, and had ornate patterns and paintings of wars all across its side.

And sitting on the throne was Canderous Ordo.

"I figured you all would show up eventually," the large man was resting with his legs up on the chair's arm and his hands supporting his head. "Though, I am surprised you're not wearing blindfolds."

"Those were not necessary," Tupalac answered, almost automatically.

Canderous sat upright in the chair, examining the Devaronian for a moment. "I'm sure they weren't," he smirked, "I told Davik that he doesn't need to blindfold people coming up through the cantina. It's not like you can't tell what's going on. Davik's getting paranoid in his old age."

Bastila stepped forward, her hands held behind her back. "As interesting as your musings are, I believe we are here to discuss our bargain." She wasted no time with the Mandalorian.

Canderous held out a finger, hinting at her not to discuss their plans in front of the messenger. "Thanks for bringing them up," he said, standing, "I'll get you your pay in a couple days."

The Devaronian bowed, his head nearly touching the floor. Had he been a wild animal, Gaius would have thought he was readying his horns to attack the Mandalorian. "Canderous, for most, I demand payment up front," he started to laugh, but it sounded stifled, restrained. "But for you, I will give until tomorrow."

"You're a slimy, devil, Tupalac." There was a pause. 'Devil' was a highly offensive insult to Devaronians, given their appearance. Canderous started laughing, full-bodied and boisterous. "I'll get you your credits tomorrow."

That Tupalac didn't have the nerve to correct a Mandalorian's manners was clear from the way he laughed. The Devaronian hastily backed his way to the elevator, no doubt to curse the Mandalorian for his insults once he was safely out of Canderous's blaster range.

Once the hidden door slid tight, Canderous walked to Bastila, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We have your codes," she told him, restraining herself from brushing off his hand, "Your end of the bargain was to provide a ship."

"I know the deal, sister, but you've got to be patient. First things first," he patted the Jedi on the back and reached his hand out toward Gaius, "we'll be bringing you and those codes to Davik."

Gaius wished he hadn't let the Devaronian walk off with his blaster. "What do you mean bring us to Davik?" he yelled at first, before lowering his voice, "He wasn't part of this deal."

Canderous retracted his hand and folded his arms. "Don't worry, he's not involved with any of this. But, nothing goes on in this building that Davik isn't aware of sooner or later. I can't have a Jedi wandering around waiting to get caught. Besides, I already told him you were coming."

Gaius was starting to realize why Carth had been so enraged that morning. They'd barely spoken for a few minutes and the Mandalorian was already throwing unwelcome surprises at them.

"Very well." There was no reason for Bastila to voice her displeasure. Gaius followed the Jedi's lead and handed, hesitantly, the Sith datapad to Candeorus. The Mandalorian smiled as he held the key to escaping Taris.

"I'm sure it wasn't easy getting a hold of these," Canderous reached into the pocket of the red vest he was wearing. In his hand was a small, rectangular plug that he attached to the datapad. Though he couldn't see what it was doing, Gaius saw the screen light up, radiating green light off the Mandalorian's face. "This will make a copy that can be plugged into the ship," he answered the question before it could be asked, "Davik's down this hall. Just follow my lead."

Canderous lead them through a door behind the throne, down a long, decorative hallway. Like the chair in the main room, the walls here were covered in ornate images. One section of the left wall was the skyline of Taris, stretching dozens of meters. Gaius ran his fingers along the mural, feeling the ridges and grooves formed by many layers of paint.

The doors at the end of the hall were shaped like one of Taris's skyscrapers, and slid open to reveal an indoor oasis. Imported plants hung along the walls and grew along the ground. A shallow stream trickled past the door, disappearing into a small hole. A sunlamp burned over their heads, aimed directly at an old man in the center of the room.

"Canderous, is that our new guests?" Davik Kang was lying belly-down on a table, wearing nothing but a towel. An orange Twi'lek stood over him and massaged his shoulders. She ignored the newcomers, her gaze never straying from her work. Her clothing made the outfit the Black Vulkars provided for Bastla seem modest.

"It is, Davik, one Jedi knight and a Republic officer," Canderous stepped through the small stream, his large, black boots nearly blocking the entire flow. "They've also brought you a present, the Sith's launch codes." Gaius saw the datapad no longer had the chip attached to it when Davik took it. The Mandalorian must have stashed the copy before giving the original to his boss.

"That's wonderful," Davik exclaimed, thrusting the Twi'lek away as he sat upright. The old man did not pay much care to keeping his towel on, but thankfully nothing came uncovered when he slung his legs over the table. "We've been trying to get our hands on these codes since they announced the quarantine. I was beginning to think we'd never pry them from the Sith."

"Our backup plan was to capture the Jedi and turn her over to the Sith so they'd just lift the quarantine." Gaius hadn't even heard the small man wearing a blue jacket enter the room. He stood directly behind him and Bastila, and brushed them both to the side as he walked forward. "I worked hard to convince those Vulkars that whoever won you at that race would turn you over to the Exchange instead of directly to the Sith." He couldn't see his face from this angle, but Gaius knew the man was smiling.

"We both muscled those gangs, Calo. You were just lucky you were taking care of the Vulkars, and they had her." Canderous placed a hand on Davik's massage table and leaned to the side.

"Enough, I won't have my two top men fighting each other" the crime boss exclaimed, standing. He faced Bastila directly, "It's not good business. Besides, thanks to you, we have the launch codes now. And, given the choice, I'd rather the Sith keep their quarantine and I be the only person who can come and go. It's a lot easier to negotiate trade deals when there's no competition."

Gaius took a cautious step forward, too late to realize he was standing in the small stream. "Those codes will get you through the auto-turrets, but how are you going to run the blockade?" He could see Canderous smirk behind his boss. The Mandalorian still hadn't told them that part of the scheme, yet.

Davik laughed, though it was force, like an actor, "I imagine, as off-worlders, you've never heard of my private ship, the _Ebon Hawk_. It's well known on Taris to be the fastest ship in this sector of the galaxy." Gaius doubted that. Every half-baked smuggler claimed his ship was the fastest. "And, don't worry, you'll get your chance to fly in it soon enough. As part of this new bargain between the Exchange, through me, and the Republic, through you, I will personally assure that your transportation off this planet."

That was pleasantly unexpected, though Gaius was still suspicious. A man like Davik wouldn't be so kind out of the goodness in his own heart. Like Canderous, Gadon, Igear, and even Mission, really, there had to be some angle.

"We are most appreciative, Mr. Kang, and will be ready to leave as soon as preparations are finished," Bastila prodded.

Davik smiled and strolled towards the Jedi. He waived two fingers in the air. The Twi'lek girl hopped to attention, scurrying behind him to resume the massage. Davik's shoulders wormed as she worked her hands over them. "Regrettably, the _Hawk_ won't be prepped for that trip for some time. I need to make certain these codes are legitimate, of course, and have my pilots probe the Sith's blockade. Only once I have been assured that we can get you and your friends off of Taris safely will I allow you to board the ship."

"And how long will that take?" Gaius understood what was going on here. He guessed it was just an unspoken agreement that no one would say it out loud.

"Well," Davik began, the Twi'lek moving down his back, "It could take some time before it's truly safe. As you may have already heard, the Sith have been mobilizing for most of the morning. We think they're preparing to move their occupation to the Lower City. That's going to hurt business, so my most significant concern will be maintaining our organization's networks on Taris for the coming days and weeks. Once the dust has settled from that, and after I've secured assurance of payment from the Republic, getting you off this planet will be of the highest priority." Gaius appreciated how Davik slipped the payment from the Republic into his speech. They were hostages, and the Republic would have to pay a crime lord their ransom.

Bastila had a single, raised eyebrow, "I apologize, but we were hoping to leave Taris as soon as possible."

Still leaning against the table, Canderous was grinning. He knew that Davik's arrangement would be far from favorable to the two Republic officers. From where Davik stood now, he couldn't see the scheming Mandalorian behind him. "I understand you might be disappointed with this timetable," the crime boss assured them, "therefore, allow me to present a token of our mutual understanding and newfound partnership. Calo, if you would."

The short man reached into his long blue jacket. Gaius instinctively reached for his blaster, cursing that it was removed, again. It was difficult to read Calo, who wore a white cap and dark tinted goggles. "I took this off a Vulkar the day before the races. Idiot didn't even know what is was."

Gaius had seen a similar metal rod hours earlier, though this one was nearly twice as long. Calo tossed the lightsaber to Bastila.

She held it delicately before switching it on. Yellow beams burst from both ends of the weapon, making a line parallel to the ground.

The Jedi twirled her weapon, blanketing herself in the yellow glow Gaius had seen surround her in his dream. Bastila truly was the woman in the golden light.


	15. Thieves in the Hanger

**Chapter 14: Thieves in the Hangar**

Davik offered to provide separate rooms for Gaius and Bastila. They politely declined. It would be easier if they stayed together, though Bastila was more reluctant towards the idea than Gaius.

He sat uncomfortably on their single bed, watching Bastila meditate in the center of the floor. She'd told him to stay quiet, that she needed to contemplate their current predicament. He tried not to stare at her or the double-bladed lightsaber hovering above her lap.

Taris's horizon, visible through a small window, wasn't the distraction it had been when Gaius first awoke in Zelka's hospital. From what he could determine, they were near the top of one of the city's highest buildings. He could see the Taris skyline disappear along the horizon.

Canderous had instructed them to wait while he arranged for their escape. He hadn't told them how he would do this, but that the details would be clear once he returned to their room.

"Davik's own ship?" Gaius had mentioned to the Mandalorian as he escorted them here. He hadn't responded, not that he had to.

Their already marginal trust in Canderous was lessened by the meeting with Davik. The crime lord imprisoning them in the "guest" wing of his estate was not a circumstance they had anticipated. That Canderous had walked them through his doorstep did nothing to endear him to Gaius. He dreaded that the Mandalorian might prove him wrong, and Carth right. Could he and Bastila escape this building on their own if it came to it? They had nowhere to go. Davik said the Sith were mobilizing, likely preparing to redouble their efforts to find the Jedi. Maybe even invade the Lower City. Despite their bravado, the swoop gangs wouldn't be able to handle a full-force Sith invasion.

The noon sunlight glistened off the skyscrapers of the Upper City, a beam of natural light reflecting through the window. The warm glow stretched to where Bastila sat cross-legged, blanketing her in the same golden radiance Gaius had seen in his dreams.

He felt anxious to leave Taris, for selfish reasons now, just as much as his duty to the Jedi. Getting her to the Jedi temple of Coruscant and learning about what she'd told him, that he could feel the force. What would that even mean for him?

Several quick beeps sounded from the door panel before it slid open and Canderous sauntered through. Gaius couldn't tell if he felt relieved or stressed by the sight of the hulking Mandalorian.

A small, orange and red T3 unit rolled in beside him before the door closed. "Okay, here's the plan," Canderous began, not waiting for Bastila to end her meditation. Gaius saw her head raise slowly as Canderous spoke and the lightsaber fall into her lap. Canderous didn't flinch "Like I said earlier, Davik's paranoid. The _Ebon Hawk_ has an advanced security network that has to be bypassed before it can even take off. Only Davik and his pilots can get through it. Luckily," Canderous patted the T3 unit, "I picked up his most recent pilot before it could be memory wiped."

"Davik uses droids as pilots?" Gaius hopped off the bed to get a better look at the T3. Several of the small astromechs had been in service on the _Endar Spire_. He was never a huge fan of their design, structured like a sitting animal with two legs sticking out in front. The saucer-shaped head caused problems on smaller ships, too, occasionally getting them stuck in tight spaces. Their programming was also pretty shoddy; they often became erratic without frequent memory wipes.

"Davik likes pilots that can self-destruct if they're caught smuggling illegal goods. T3-H8 here flew in just before the Sith quarantine. I paid off the techie not to wipe it." Canderous crossed his arms and smiled smugly at Bastila. He knew their faith in him was weak.

The Jedi stood up from her cross-legged position on the floor, examining the astromech before speaking. "Are you certain this droid will get us onto Davik's ship?"

"It'll get us in. We can pick up your friends on the way out. I've got the launch codes, so we're ready to leave as soon as the Sith start moving into the Lower City. Davik and his men will be too occupied to notice that we – and his favorite ship – have disappeared." Canderous plucked the copy he made of the launch codes from his red vest and waved it confidently.

A bright flash in the corner of his eye caught Gaius's attention. Something off in the distance, like a sunbeam perfectly reflecting off a building and into their room. He turned his head to the window and stepped toward it, scanning the skyline. Another, brighter spark appeared on the side of a building not far from where he watched.

"Based on the Sith's activity, how long before we are able to leave?" Bastila queried, ignoring Gaius's distracted gaze.

Canderous grunted, "Could be a few days if we're lucky. More than likely, though, it'll be-"

"Now." More bright flashes blossomed and faded on the horizon, clouding the window with light. Gaius only now comprehended what initially drew his eye. Explosions.

Bright red blasterfire rained down from the sky, erupting in light and debris with each impact on the city. The Sith were destroying Taris.

"We're leaving now," Gaius repeated. The entire building rocked, as if it agreed.

"How far is the hangar?" Bastila demanded, "We do not have long." She was now facing where Gaius stood, looking out at the first stages of the city's destruction.

Canderous stashed the codes back in his pocket. "There's a staircase down the hall," he said, "Follow me and have this ready." He tossed a blaster to Gaius, who turned his attention from the window to catch it.

The Mandalorian held his own weapon out as he led them from the room. The building rocked again as Gaius crossed the threshold into the hallway. T3-H8 struggled to keep pace with them, following behind Bastila and Canderous.

Gaius was reminded of the final minutes of the _Endar Spire_ as he ran. The floor seemed to move separately from his feet, forcing him to adjust his balance with every individual step. He wished they weren't running blind like this, but there wasn't much choice when the building could be hit at any moment.

Canderous led them to an open staircase, it's entrance sitting in the middle of the hallway. It curled down several floors, from what Gaius could see over the side. Bastila flew down them after the Mandalorian. Gaius lagged at the top, ensuring T3-H8 was not left behind. The droid's poor design showed as it slowly clonked over each step.

Gaius felt tempted to push the small T3, though it wasn't necessary, as another shake of the building sent it careening downward. Unable to lock onto a step, the astromech slid the length of the staircase, letting out a high-pitched scream as it gained speed. Gaius heard the sound of metal scraping metal when T3-H8 collided with the stairs' railing. The small droid shifted its legs, but one of them caught a step and T3 flipped.

Almost like a ball, the droid bounced down the staircase, end over end. Bastila jumped to the side to avoid the astromech crashing into her heels and watched it come to rest at the base of the stairs, next to where Canderous stood. The Mandalorian's head followed the droid's entire path down the stairs to his feet. The large, blue photoreceptor light at the front of its saucer-shaped head faded until it was completely extinguished.

Gaius finally caught up to his companions, who stood over the droid at the bottom of the stairs. T3-H8 didn't move.

"Is there a plan B?" Gaius asked.

Canderous ran a hand over his head and sighed. "There's more droids on this level, but none that will have security access."

Gaius knelt and looked over the damaged T3 unit on the floor. "I don't think the memory core was damaged, All the protective plating there is still intact. Another astromech should be able to access it if we bring the head along."

Canderous and Bastila exchanged looks before the Mandalorian bent down, taking the T3's head in both hands. Gaius wrapped his arms around the droid's legs. At least they were good for grabbing on to, if not going down stairs. The two men pulled, trying to separate the astromech's head from its body, readjusting their grips as it refused to give way. Gaius grimaced, holding the legs under his arm and leaning all his weight back.

A loud hissing noise and a bright flash erupted between them, and the droid's body suddenly gave way with Gaius still holding it. He nearly hit his head on the floor as the body of the now-defunct astromech rolled on top of him.

Bastila stood calmly over the two men, one of her lightsaber's yellow blades withdrawing into its hilt. Gaius and Canderous exchanged annoyed glances, wondering why she hadn't stepped in earlier. Gaius had almost forgotten about the Jedi's weapon.

The Mandalorian took the severed astromech head and held it under his arm. "Droid storage is in the opposite direction from the hanger," the building rocked again, as if to remind them of the time constraints.

The trio raced through the wide hallway of Davik's estate. Canderous led, the droid head in one arm and his weapon in the other. Gaius was pleasantly surprised by how little resistance they encountered. Whatever muscle Davik kept in his home had scattered when the Sith opened fire on the planet. Even hired guns had self-preservation instincts.

Canderous stopped outside the droid storage room, inputting a short security code into the door before it slid open. Every sensor light in the room turned to the three humans as they stepped into the closet-sized space. A dozen droids lined the walls of the cramped room. About half were T3 units like H8. The other half were either assault or protocol droids, save for the lone, medical droid resting along the back wall.

Several of the T3s whirred at the sight of the severed head Canderous held. "Hurry up and pick one," the Mandalorian yelled.

Gaius squatted in front of the first astromech on the left. "Bastila, I'll take this one, get the one next to me."

"We only need one to get through security," Canderous informed them. He'd lowered his voice, as the building had stopped rocking for the moment.

"Gaius is right," Bastila said, kneeling by another T3, "we may not get another opportunity to visit this room."

Gaius was already working on removing the restraining bolt from the droid in front of him. Whoever Davik had put in charge of these droids, he wasn't very good. The restraint practically fell off when Gaius touched it, and the astromech dashed forward, out of its charging station and slammed directly into Gaius's stomach. He grabbed at the droid to keep it from escaping out the door and down the hall.

The reason for the droid's urgency was soon apparent, though. After nearly a minute of stillness, the floor buckled, and a bright flash surged through the room. For a moment, Gaius feared that a blast had ripped into the building where they stood.

Moving his arms away from his eyes, he saw that a surge had swept into the droid storage. Every droid still docked at a charging station, including the one in front of Bastila, had been fried by the blast. The Jedi lay on her back, nearly thrown by the electric surge.

"You okay?" Gaius didn't direct the question at anyone in particular. His thoughts were split evenly between Bastila and the only surviving astromech. Both responded to him, and he found himself turning his attention to the droid first. Gaius motioned for Canderous to bring him the head from T3-H8.

"We're getting out of here," the Mandalorian said sternly, placing the head at the droid's feet.

"Can you access the memory core and download the security protocols for the _Ebon Hawk_?" Gaius stared into the T3's photoreceptor. The droid's singular, large optic sensor shifted between Gaius and Canderous several times before it beeped and opened its 'chestplate.' Several short tools began cutting into T3-H8's memory core.

As the utility droid connected to start the download, it beeped and whirred several questions. Gaius smirked when he realized that neither Canderous nor Bastila understood the binary. Despite the Jedi and Mandalorians fighting on opposite sides of a way, neither were overly fond of droids.

"Don't worry," Gaius reassured the machine, "we won't leave you behind."

"Are we finished?" Bastila inquired. The T3 withdrew all its tools and gave a simple whir to indicate its answer. Bastila nodded, but her face still seemed puzzled. Gaius thought better of insulting her by translating.

"Time to go."

Bastila led the return trip to the staircase. The yellow beams from her lightsaber indicated the path that Canderous and Gaius followed, the astromech hot on their heels. The building had not stopped rocking since the electrical surge. It was only a matter of time before the foundation gave way. Gaius hadn't looked out of a window in some time, so there was no way to know the extent of the Sith bombardment.

They passed by the stairs without stopping. Canderous shouted some directions to Bastila, though she never looked back to acknowledge him. At times, it was like Bastila was turning down a corridor before Canderous had even told her to.

The Jedi halted in front of a closed doorway. A pair of blast doors loomed over them. Bastila twirled her weapon. Swiftly, the yellow blade moved counterclockwise, cutting a hole large enough for them to step through.

But before she could finish, the blast doors opened. Bastila's lightsaber left a trail of heated metal from the outer line of semi-circle to the center of the opening door. The small T3 unit sat under the control panel, plugged into the interface.

The hanger was far larger than the small freighter required. The _Ebon Hawk_ couldn't have been more than twenty-five or thirty meters long, and the hanger could have fit at least two more ships that size.

Canderous fired a blaster shot before Gaius even saw his target. The blast left a mark on the _Ebon Hawk's_ loading ramp, just below the blue coat that was disappearing inside the ship.

"Go!" the Mandalorian shouted before taking off at a full sprint. Bastila ran side-by-side with him, igniting both ends of her lightsaber. She held it at her side, leaving a blur of yellow light wherever it passed. Gaius followed, but continued to look over his shoulder, wishing the stolen T3 droid would move faster.

The building rocked, harder and louder than before. Metal beams from the hanger's ceiling creaked and buckled overhead. Bits of material began to rain down. Just dust, at first, then chunks of metal and decorative plasters.

Bastila and Canderous each had a foot on the loading ramp when it began to close. Canderous charged forward, slipping inside the ship. The Jedi turned back toward Gaius.

Bastila's lightsaber glowed golden behind her, and she reached out a hand. Her balance was perfect on the slowly-receding ramp. Gaius glanced to his side, where the T3 was not keeping pace with him, the wheels hidden in its front and rear legs spinning as fast as they could.

"Hurry!" Gaius wasn't sure if he'd seen Bastila look genuinely concerned before. She dropped he lightsaber and knelt forward. The ramp was already half-closed. Gaius and the T3 were less than ten meters from the ramp, but their window of opportunity was closing faster than he'd hoped.

Something snapped overhead. Gaius could almost feel the metal beam creak at its supports, preparing to fall right over their heads. Without thinking and still running, Gaius bent over and wrapped an arm around the body of the droid. Lifting it was easier than he'd anticipated, but throwing it onto the quickly closing ramp was another matter. His arm felt numb as Gaius put all his strength into pushing the droid up next to Bastila.

The clank from the T3 colliding with the metal ramp was drowned by the metallic snap from overhead. Gaius leapt into the air, grabbing onto the ramp with one hand, and Bastila's arm with the other. The Jedi nearly fell backwards pulling him through the crack between the loading ramp and the ship. Even through the closed ramp, the crash from the metal beam was deafening.

Gaius rolled down the ramp, which was now angled upwards. Bastila had already recovered her own balance by the time he found his bearings.

"Thanks," Gaius said, standing and trying to appear unfazed while still catching his breath. The sound of the ship's engines bursting to life distracted Bastila before she could answer.

"We should hurry," the Jedi reached down for her lightsaber, "Davik is already starting to-" she jumped back as a blaster bolt pierced the air where her hand had been less than a moment before.

"I told Davik you all would make it before the loading ramp closed." Calo Nord held out two large pistols, one trained on each of them. He stood at the intersection of several of the ship's corridors, a large room to his back and two tunnel-like spaces on either side of him. "It's a shame that Canderous wasn't quite fast enough to make it on board."

A red flash struck Calo's right hand and his blaster exploded into hot sparks. Before the bounty hunter could recompose himself, Canderous flung himself out from one of the corridors and full-force into Calo's chest. The other blaster skid along the floor as the two men tumbled to the ground.

Gaius reached for the blaster Canderous had given him. He started towards Calo and Canderous, who were wrestling on the floor, but he was stopped by Bastila. "Go to the cockpit. We still need to go back for Carth."

Gaius had nearly forgotten about returning to the apartment. If Davik managed to clear Taris's atmosphere, there was no way they would be able to return. He looked down to the small T3, which had been sitting patiently since he'd thrown it onto the ship. It suddenly occurred to Gaius that he didn't know the droid's unit number.

"Tee-Three," he addressed it by model, "Where's the cockpit?"

The small droid whistled and pushed forward, passing by Calo and Canderous, who were still struggling on the ground. Gaius followed the droid into the main hold, which was shaped like a central conference room. There was a large, circular holotable in the middle of the room, and half a dozen doors were spread out along the walls. T3 ignored the table, taking a corridor to the right of where they'd entered.

Beyond a short hallway, Davik stood over the controls of the _Ebon Hawk_. The ship was climbing, only the tops of the tallest skyscrapers were still visible through the viewport. Red blasterfire rained down around them in every direction.

Davik turned around as Gaius entered the cockpit, holding a blaster pistol with his left hand while keeping his other hand on the controls. He wore an ornate, purple armor that Gaius was sure cost more than the ship he was flying. "Well, isn't this an unpleasant surprise. And I see you stole one of my droids to go along with the ship. If you had been a few minutes earlier, these launch codes might have been a very costly investment, indeed."

"Give it up, Davik," Gaius kept his own blaster pointed at the crime lord, "let me take control. I have to go back for a friend."

Davik scoffed, "I'm sorry, but giving rides to people who try to steal my ship and leave me high and dry isn't exactly part of my normal business plan." Behind him, the skyline vanished below the viewport. They would clear the atmosphere soon.

Gaius raised his blaster higher, "I'm warning you." He meant the threat. He'd seen and heard enough about Davik to know that the galaxy would be a better place without the crime boss running around. And, right now, it was Davik's life or Carth's.

Davik turned back to the controls, "I'm sure you do."

Gaius felt the floor drop out from under him. The metallic tile below his feet seemed to give way, and suddenly Gaius was falling. It was only a couple feet, but the shock caused Gaius to lose his weapon. The blaster clanged somewhere in the smuggler's compartment where he couldn't see.

Gaius's hand found the ledge of the hidden panel, but Davik's boot cut off his grip. The old man aimed the blaster at his head, "I've been in this business too long to let someone else get the drop on me first."

Davik screamed. An electric current strong enough to knock out a Wookie coursed through the air between the crime boss and the small T3 unit. Even Davik's armor wasn't strong enough to disperse the surge from that close of a range.

T3 chirped and withdrew the shock arm that jutted out from the center of its saucer-shaped head. The droid rolled forward, extending a manipulator arm towards Gaius. It whistled for him to grab hold.

Weary of the astromech which had just fried its former master, Gaius let the T3 help him to his feet. If they were on this ship for any length of time, he'd have to run a check for more hidden compartments like the one he was climbing out of.

"Tee-three, you have control," he said, "Turn us around and take us to the apartment complex on the Southeast Plaza."

T3 buzzed alarmingly. It had a point. Escaping one building on Taris in this bombardment was lucky. Doing it twice would be a miracle. Gaius gazed out the front viewport. Red blasterfire continued to fall around them. No direction was truly safe but up.

He suppressed any thought of abandoning the Captain before it could even surface. "Do it."

Gaius didn't stay in the cockpit, and he could feel the ship changing course as he passed through the main hold. At least the droid was loyal. It had saved him, after all.

"Gaius, stand back," Bastila held a hand up to him once he could see her through the corridor to the loading ramp.

"No, let him come." It was Calo.

Gaius stepped forward. Bastila and Carth stood next to each other, facing toward the loading ramp. Someone must have opened it in their struggle, and Calo Nord now stood precariously halfway down it, his blue coat flapping wildly behind him in the wind. He wasn't holding a weapon anymore, but his right arm was raised. Inside the upheld hand was a small, silver sphere. A thermal detonator.

"You set that off and the ship goes down with you on it!" Canderous shouted down the ramp.

Calo smiled. It was unsettling to see the short man amused by the prospect of his own suicide. "That's the plan!" It was difficult to hear over the wind rushing past the _Hawk_. "If I'm going down, then I'm taking all of you with me!"

Gaius swore he saw Calo's fingers move to detonate the grenade. As he did, though, Bastila swept her arm forward, holding her arm outstretched in Calo's direction.

Suddenly, the bounty hunter lost his balance. The thermal denator slipped from his grip and fell from the loading ramp, landing somewhere unknown. It was impossible to distinguish the explosion from the hundreds of others caused by the Sith bombardment.

Calo lay flat on his stomach, attempting to crawl forward up the ramp. Canderous stepped towards him, his Mandalorian form towering over the bounty hunter. Canderous placed his boot onto the man's white cap. "Goodbye, Calo."

Gaius could still make out his blue coat as he floated off in the distance.

They watched for a moment before returning to the cockpit. Bastila supervised T3 as they approached the apartment building while Canderous and Gaius carried the still-unconscious Davik into the cargo hold. The Jedi appeared behind them as they locked the door.

"We're here. Help me on the loading ramp."

The three made their way around the ship to its entrance. "Do we know where he is? Has the building stayed intact?" Gaius asked as they walked.

"Yes and no," Bastila responded. "They're on the roof, but the tower won't last much longer."

"They?" Gaius asked, but Bastila didn't need to explain any further. Gaius could see out the loading ramp that a large chunk of the building's middle floors had been blasted away by the Sith.

Carth stood on a balcony on the highest level, waving his arms. Next to him stood Mission and Zaalbar, signaling for the _Ebon Hawk_ to fly closer. Standing around them were nearly two dozen civilians, most in some mixed state of panic or excitement at their approach.

Gaius and Bastila both inched their way down the ramp as the droid piloted the ship closer. Like many freighters, the loading ramp was in the front, and Gaius could see the cockpit's viewport from where he stood. That made him less comfortable with the situation, however, as the T3 unit was too short to be seen from this angle. Still, the droid flew admirably, hovering the ship just beside the building, with only a small crack between it and the roof. Gaius tried not to look down.

"One at a time!" Bastila barked to the crowd which had followed Carth and Mission onto the roof. The Captain helped as people hopped across to the _Ebon Hawk_ , many of them moving painfully slow. Sooner or later, either a Sith blast would find them or the building would give way. Or both.

One by one, Gaius and Bastila pulled each person onto the ship. Despite Taris's xenophobia, the apartment was mostly populated by aliens, and that's who most of the people they were rescuing were. The notable exception was an old man, who Gaius recognized as the preacher from the walkways. Fitting that he would represent the humans of Taris to escape.

The rest were a mix of Bith, Rodians, Aqualish, Ithorians, and various other species, some Gaius didn't recognize. He had to fight off several hugs from grateful rescuees so that he could move on to the next one. Most looked to be fine, but some had been injured. One pink, Zeltron woman had bandages around most of her head and a large gash in her leg. Once she was on board, Canderous lifted her up and carried her into the ship. After what felt like an eternity, only Zaalbar, Mission, and Carth remained on the building.

Zaalbar jumped across first, at Mission's prodding. The Wookie turned back to help the Captain cross. Despite the work he was doing, Carth still winced as he jumped over, the blaster wound had not yet fully healed. Zaalbar took him under a big, furry arm and hauled him up the loading ramp.

Mission took a visible breath before making the leap. Gaius could see her peer over the edge of the building, making the fatal mistake of looking down. The Twi'lek got a running start and bent her knees. As her feet left the rooftop Gaius could feel something shift. The _Ebon Hawk_ took a Sith blast along its topside and buckled, pivoting to a nearly forty-five-degree angle from where it had been.

Gaius dropped onto his stomach and stretched as far as he could, but Mission's fingers weren't even close to his hand. Somewhere behind him, Zaalbar roared and Carth screamed her name.

"Help me!" Bastila shouted from across the ramp as the _Ebon Hawk_ recentered itself. Like Gaius, the Jedi was on her stomach, but both her hands were over the edge, and she was trying to lift something heavy.

Gaius dove to her without ever reaching a full standing position. He stretched both arms over hers and grabbed Mission's blue hands as tightly as he could. The two of them pulled the teenager onto the ramp as T3 began to pull the ship away from the building.

Zaalbar's furry arms grabbed hold of all three of them, and dragged them up the ramp as it began to close.

Mission's eyes were wide, "How did you?" she stammered "I was falling! But then I wasn't! How am I- What happened?" She had been worked up like this as they left the swoop race.

The Captain knelt beside them and hugged the girl, "It's okay, Mission. We're all here. It's going to be alright."

"Carth," Bastila interrupted, "We need a pilot."

He paused, but nodded in response. "Take care of her, Z."

The Wookie let out a soft whine, before lifting Mission up in both arms. Bastila looked like she was about to do the same for Gaius, but merely lent him one hand to help stand. "This way to the cockpit," he informed them as they made the short jog across the main hold. He knew Carth was still hurting, but there wasn't much time. "Tee-three has been solid, but I'm not sure about a droid pilot in combat."

Canderous was standing in the corridor by the cockpit, "I've plugged in the Sith's launch codes. We should be outside they're defenses in a minute."

The rest of the group barely acknowledged the Mandalorian as they passed. Reaching the cockpit, T3's head spud around to face them with its large optical sensor. The astromech whirred as Carth jumped in the pilot's chair. "He's a pilot," Gaius let it know.

Bastila slid into the second chair, on the right side of the cockpit. "Canderous was correct, we should be crossing their defense grid in less than a minute."

In front of them, the sky faded from light blue to black. The red blasts from the Sith's laser cannons somehow seemed more ominous and threatening against the dark sky. Somewhere out there, several auto-targeting laser cannons were homing in on their location.

Hopefully Sarna gave him the real codes. Gaius didn't share the thought. If she had lied, then it wouldn't make a difference.

Gaius counted the moments as they went by. Carth let him know when it was time to worry. "We're passing the Sith defense grid now."

The entire room held its breath. Even the T3 unit was uncannily still. Seconds passed and nothing happened. "They accepted our codes," Bastila said, at last, "We've been sent clearance to proceed on our current route."

"That'll take us right into a Sith cruiser," Carth noted, "The auto-targeting canons can't lock onto us now. I'm adjusting course."

The _Ebon Hawk_ changed direction, but it seemed that Sith ships surrounded them on all sides. They must have blockaded the planet to prepare for the orbital bombardment. "Plot a course for Dantooine," Bastila instructed, "There is a Jedi enclave there where we can find refuge."

"We have to break the blockade first," Carth flipped the ship around and gunned the engines. The inertial dampeners couldn't hide the force being put behind the _Ebon Hawk_. "The Sith noticed the change in course. Thy're scrambling fighters."

Bastila took the initiative. "Starr, take the gun turrets. Onasi, evasive maneuvers. Hold off those fighters while I calculate the hyperspace coordinates."

"Tee-three, help her out," Gaius tapped the droid on the head as he turned to leave them to their work.

The main hold was now filled with refugees. Most sat in a stunned silence, while others hugged, cried, and prayed. A small Togruta girl was balled up with her back against the center table, staring at her feet. Gaius didn't see any adult Togruta on the ship.

"Canderous!" he shouted to the room. The _Ebon Hawk_ rocked, and he hoped the shields would hold out long enough for the jump to lightspeed. Gaius looked around the room, but couldn't see him.

There was a tug on Gaius's pants leg. A short, female Drall stood at his feet. She was small, even by Drall standards. "«The Mandalorian is in the back,»" she pointed across the table, opposite the cockpit.

"Thank you," Gaius broke eye contact with her as he left. He pushed his way through the frightened crowd towards the rear end of the ship. The engine compartment was straight back, but he heard the gruff voice of the Mandalorian in a side room.

Canderous stood over a table in the small medbay across from a Bith woman. The injured Zeltron he'd carried aboard writhed on the table, pounding her fist as the Bith applied kolto packs to her injured leg. Canderous kept both hands on her leg to keep it from moving.

"One second, Gaius," the Mandalorian said, turning his head slightly. The _Hawk_ rocked once more as the Bith applied another pack.

"«That's the last of the kolto,»" she said, somberly. "«You should be okay until we get you proper medical attention. »"

Aside from a quiet whimper, the Zeltron didn't respond. Canderous released her leg and faced Gaius. "We're going to Dantooine. Bastila is calculating the hyperspace coordinates, but the Sith have scrambled fighters."

"Take the gun turret up top. Access is right behind you. I'll take the side cannon." Canderous directed Gaius to the small elevator in the wall before disappearing down another corridor. Once they made the jump, Gaius would make sure to get thoroughly used to the ship's layout.

From the controls, it seemed the elevator could take him through the airlock, or to turret access. Gaius carefully chose the latter option, not wanting to accidentally eject himself into space. The single-person elevator rose quickly and stopped with a crawlspace at chest-height.

He squeezed his way forward until he reached something of a bubble. The gun turret viewport gave him a sweeping view of everything above the _Ebon Hawk_.

Gaius looked up to see Carth taking the ship directly between two Sith _Interdictor_ ships. The _Hawk_ pivoted, and the underside of a Sith Capital ship was directly above Gaius's head, the shining silver blocking out any view of the dark space around them. From this close, he could see row after row of turrets firing red blaster fire down onto the planet below.

Then, suddenly, they were past the ship, and nothing blocked them from open space.

A blast struck the ship's shields across the top side, where Gaius could see. A sliver of a Sith fighter raced past the gun turret, before turning back around.

"Where are you, we need those fighters cleared!" Carth's voice buzzed in through the controls in front of him.

There was no proper chair to sit in, but Gaius rested his back against the wall. The controls jutted out in front of him, and looked similar to speeder's driving handles. He took them in his hands and shifted right and left. The floor spun with the turret, giving Gaius a full range of motion. If there was a ship out there, the gun turret could hit it, so long as it was on the _Ebon Hawk's_ topside.

The fighter which struck them moments ago doubled back, and Gaius opened fire. His first three shots missed, but the fighter flew in a straight line, not making any attempt to dodge. Gaius's fourth shot found the underside of the Sith fighter, and it burst, the flames vanishing quickly in the vacuum of space.

Gaius spun the turret in a circle, looking for another target. He couldn't find anything until, on his right, five fighters flew up from the underside of the ship in the V-formation. They spread out above him, doubling back in different directions before opening fire.

"Captain, keep me lined up, I can't shoot them if they're under us." Gaius fired on the leftmost ship, striking it with his first hit. The gun turret was slow, but packed enough of a punch that one or two hits could take out a light fighter like the Sith used.

Gaius spun around, take shots at the remaining four fighters, trying to scare them into breaking formation. It worked for the most part, as the fighters broke their direct run to circle around the _Ebon Hawk_.

Again, the ship pivoted, and Gaius found a Sith fighter directly in his sights. Despite the straight-on shot, it took several tries before a blast nicked the fighter's wing. It stripped clean off, and the Sith ship started to drift out of control, heading back towards the blockade.

Two blasts came from somewhere else on the ship, and two more fighters disappeared in evaporating flames. Canderous must have reached the controls for the rest of the _Ebon Hawk's_ weapons.

The last ship flew over Gaius's head before diving down to the _Ebon Hawk's_ underside.

"Just one more on us," Gaius yelled into the console, "Flip us over so I can get a shot."

"No need," the Captain's voice answered, "hold on."

Gaius felt the familiar tightness accompanied by the added weight one felt right before the jump to lightspeed. The white dots in the sky formed by thousands of stars stretched into streaks above Gaius's head, and the ship launched forward into hyperspace.

The swirling void was a welcome sight as the _Ebon Hawk's_ crew left Taris behind.


	16. The Destroyer of Taris

**Chapter 15: The Destroyer of Taris**

Sarna stood at attention from the moment the shuttle's holoprojector hummed to life. Once, locking her body in this position for so long would have been discomforting, but her time at the academy and the years of service following had developed the pose into a second-nature. She would admit that it was initially difficult to stand so still when the shuttle launched, though that was more due to the aftereffects of Ensign Starr's stun blast than any fault in the ship's inertial dampeners.

"And you are certain it was Bastila Shan?" the silvery image of Admiral Karath shimmered in front of her.

"Positive, Sir," Sarna kept her eyes forward as the holoimage paced around her. "She was the only Jedi unaccounted for off the _Endar Spire's_ crew manifest."

Somewhere on the _Leviathan_ , Saul Karath stroked his chin. "What about his wounds?"

"As I reported to Commander Briggs, the body of Darth Abeon was autopsied at the scene under my personal supervision. His chest contained two wounds, both of which appeared to be punctures caused by a lightsaber." Sarna left out that it was she, after awakening next to Abeon's corpse, who created the wounds with the Dark Jedi's own lightsaber. The Admiral would never believe off her own word that a common soldier like Starr was responsible for Abeon's death. And suspicion would lead to an investigation.

If there was one unspoken rule amongst the Sith, it was to avoid becoming the subject of questioning when a superior believed you were lying. Few soldiers returned to active duty after a Sith Master became involved in their interrogation.

"And, again, how was it, Lieutenant, that you came to discover Abeon's corpse at this establishment?" the Admiral's hologram was behind her now.

Sarna allowed her face to falter for a moment, "He requested that I meet him at the hotel. I was not briefed regarding the purpose of the rendezvous, but his intentions towards me were well known within the company. It was after the autopsy that I discovered a call had been made from that room directly to Abeon's officer's quarters prior to his call to my office." The operator who transferred the call was easy enough to bribe. She was some Tarisian local who'd been put to work operating the Sith's telecommunication lines for close to slave's wages. A week's salary was enough for her to scrub her officer I.D. from the incoming call record. Two weeks' was enough for her to disappear somewhere in the Lower City. "Everything was in my report, Sir."

Admiral Karath rested in front of her. It was difficult to make eye contact with a hologram, let alone for an extended time. Eventually the eyes focused on the wall or the viewport behind the shimmering blue lights. "It's not every day that the appointed governor of an occupied world is murdered with the defense codes to the planet in his possession. Darth Malak is interested in this information, personally, and I would like my own report to be as factually precise as possible before your arrival. We shall see you when you arrive, Lieutenant Ketra."

Sarna saluted her superior as the hologram faded. "We?" she whispered to no one in particular.

As, the internal lights of the Sith shuttle flickered to life, Sarna's hand remained on her cap. For the first time since she stabbed Abeon with the Sith's own lightsaber, she was frightened by what might lay ahead. Her story had holes in it. No civilians were interviewed, so no one saw Bastila anywhere near the hotel. And the fact that the first person to find the body oversaw the investigation… at least that was explainable. She'd been the ranking officer on the scene, even if she was a witness. It was protocol. Technically.

But the thought of meeting Darth Malak, himself, filled Sarna with dread. The Lord of the Sith was a ruthless man. She heard the rumors of what happened to the high-ranking officers who crossed him. And it was common knowledge what had happened to those who remained loyal to Revan after the former Lord's death. There was a reason the remaining hierarchy fell in line behind the new Sith Lord.

It was an often heard, but never spoken, belief that if Revan were still in command of the Sith forces, the war would have already been won. Darth Malak's brutality bled into his campaign strategies. Devastating entire worlds and applying brute force to key strategic areas had done nothing to raise morale in the wake of his former master's death. It was a stark contrast to the vicegrip Revan organized, engineering mass Republic surrenders and easy Sith victories through bottlenecks, blockades, feints, and the occasional sabotage.

"At ease, soldier," Sublieutenant Yun Genda nearly laughed at how Sarna maintained her salute, even as the lights in the cabin undimmed. Had it been another inferior officer, she might have reprimanded him.

Sarna waited for the lights to fully return before she dropped her arm. "You can never tell with these things. I'm always worried that my holoimage is still projecting on the other end."

Now, Yun did laugh. The Sith pilot's inability to hide his emotions was a large part of why he still had "Sub" at the beginning of his rank. "You're about to have a personal meeting with Lord Malak, and you're worried about dropping your salute a second too early? Really, Sarna, I think you've got the wrong perspective on all of this."

"That's 'Lieutenant Ketra' to you, Genda." Sarna took a seat at the ship's helm. The purpose of their trip was officially confidential, so she and Yun were the only ones aboard the small transport shuttle.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Ketra. We'll be arriving at the _Leviathan_ in just a few minutes, Lieutenant Ketra. Would you like some caf, Lieutenant Ketra?" With each repetition of her name and rank, Yun mocked a salute, the smile on his face getting bigger and dumber each time. The odd emphases his Coruscanti accent only emphasized his comedic tone.

Sarna ignored him, "They installed caf machines on these rust buckets?"

" _I_ installed a caf machine on _my_ rust bucket," Yun pointed to the row of seats along the wall behind him. The chair nearest to him was haphazardly replaced with a square piece of metal jutting outward, serving as a table. On top of it sat a cheap-looking, L-shaped machine and a small pot of brown liquid. Sarna realized how distracted this trip was making her if she hadn't noticed it already. "Lieutenant Ketra," he finished teasingly.

"Did you get permission to tamper with Sith Empire property?" Sarna stood to examine whether the table would fall off if she used it.

"I figured it would be better to ask for forgiveness from a superior officer," Yun swiveled the pilot's chair around towards her, "After sharing a mug, of course, Lieutenant Ketra."

Sarna swirled the caf around in its pot. It looked like it might still be warm enough to be drinkable. "Do you have-"

"Under the table, Lieutenant Ketra."

Sarna's eye rolled as she reached for a mug hanging from the underside of the metal slab. "You can quit whenever you want, Yun."

"That's 'Sublieutenant Genda' to you." Yun spun his chair back towards the front viewport. "You should hurry with that cup. Don't want your breath to stink for Darth Malak."

Sarna took a sip. The caf was colder than she'd expected, so it wouldn't be difficult to finish before they arrived on the _Leviathan_. Not that the drink was good enough to chug quickly. Genda laughed quietly as she took another swallow.

"What is it?" she wiped her hand over her lip.

Genda kept laughing, "Do you think he can smell with that piece of metal over his face?"

"Who? Malak?" Sarna started to chuckle at the thought.

"Yeah, do you think they installed smell censors?"

She shook her head at the sublieutenant, "He still has a nose, you know."

Genda seemed puzzled, "Does he? I always pictured him that metal thing covering up his nose." He leaned back in his chair. "I guess you'll have to report back to me on it after you meet him."

Sarna shook her head but couldn't help snickering at least a little, "I've got more to worry about than reporting to you whether or not Darth Malak still has a nose." She couldn't help herself and laughed outright.

She finished her caf as the cold exterior of the _Leviathan_ grew in front of them. The Sith flagship was passing through the shadow of Taris's moon. What originally appeared as the spectre of two large talons slowly appeared as the largest ship in the Sith fleet.

Like most of the Sith's capital ships, the _Leviathan_ was shaped like a pincer or a large claw, with an open center that smaller ships could pass through. The bridge sat atop the _Leviathan's_ rear half like a thick antenna. Somewhere on that bridge, Darth Malak was waiting for her.

The thought robbed the laughter from her throat. Yun was one of the few people on Taris who could have distracted her from remembering that she would have to lie to the Dark Lord of the Sith within the hour. Were he not the cause of her worry, Sarna would have considered Gaius Starr among those people, as well.

The capital ship's hangar was on the exact midpoint of the ship's curve. Any cannon on the interior of the ship's claw-shape would have a clean shot at anyone attempting to dock without permission. Their small shuttle seemed engulfed by the larger ship, and Sarna tried to finish her caf just as the _Leviathan's_ hangar lights filled the small shuttle's viewport. Yun set the ship down gently where a dock worker directed him.

"I'll open the doors when you're ready." Sublieutenant Genda was all business now that they were aboard the Sith flagship.

Leaving her glass on the ship's console, Sarna stood from her chair and approached the loading ramp at the shuttle's rear. She straightened the Lieutenant's pin over the left breast of her uniform and breathed deeply. "Do it."

She squinted at the interior lights of the hangar. Compared to Republic ships, the lighting was rather dim, but it was bright compared to the sparse wall-mounted lights of the shuttle.

An infantry sergeant stood at the bottom of the loading ramp, wearing full combat gear. Sarna saw her reflection in the dark maroon of the squad leader's armor as she approached him. Behind the sergeant stood six more infantry men, clad in the standard dark metallic colors of the enlisted Sith soldiers.

"Lieutenant Ketra," the sergeant saluted. Sarna replied likewise and they both quickly returned to rest, "We have orders to take you straight to the bridge. Admiral Karath wants you there A-S-A-P." She couldn't help but notice the blaster rifle he held in both hands and its companions amongst the squad. Sarna responded in reluctant agreement, wishing she could see some of the soldier's expression through solid black faceplate. It was specifically designed to prevent that, though. The sergeant led her through the two rows of infantry, who fell in line behind them as they marched the length of the hangar.

There was more activity on the _Leviathan_ than she would have thought. The Sith flagship had been sitting in a blockade for weeks, so there was little need for as many ships to be coming as going as there were. Shuttles like the one Sarna arrived on moved in and out of the hangar by the dozen, offloading cargo, supplies, and even troops.

Transport to the bridge required two elevators. Sarna cursed the sergeant for not informing her of this. The dread she felt as the first set of doors opened caught her off guard, and it was not until she learned that Darth Malak was still some levels away that Sarna realized just how little she looked forward to this meeting.

She stood silently with the troops on the large lift. The intermittent clinks of their metal boots shifting on the cold floor was the only sound any of them made during the journey upwards through the ship. Already, Sarna wished she were back on the shuttle with Yun.

As the second elevator opened, there was no doubt that the Dark Lord was near. Sarna's breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the hall. She'd walked this exact path on other, identical ships, but somehow the low lights of the _Leviathan_ made the walk more foreboding. Each step seemed to bring her closer to an unknown end, and if not for the armed escort, she might have turned and fled.

The Admiral stood at the base of the ramp leading to the bridge. For a man who enlisted during the Exar Kun War and served through the worst of the Mandalorian Wars, Saul Karath appeared almost youthful. Despite his gray hair, the Admiral looked as fit as someone half his age, and his gaze had a sharpness that distracted from the even sharper mind behind it. His hands were clasped in front of him, and he watched the small squad of escorting Sarna as they approached. They came to a halt and all eight Sith soldiers, Sarna included, saluted the Admiral.

"I have been awaiting your arrival for some time, Lieutenant." He turned to the maroon-clad sergeant beside her. "Your men are dismissed. Return to your post."

"Yessir," he replied hastily before hustling back through the two rows of men. His squad turned and shuffled behind. Sarna realized that they likely had no more desire to be this near to the Dark Lord of the Sith than she did.

Admiral Karath turned his full attention back to Sarna, he visually sized her up for a moment before speaking. "Now, Lieutenant, you will listen closely and you will listen carefully," he spoke with the authority of his rank, "Do not address to Lord Malak unless he directs a question to you. When he does, answer truthfully and to the best of your ability. Stand straight at attention, but there is no need to salute. And above all, Lieutenant, do not stare at his prosthetic."

Sarna was a bit taken aback by the laundry list of instructions, enough that she hardly noticed the final one. Yun would get a kick out of it when she returned to the shuttle. "Will this be an interrogation, Sir?"

She couldn't tell if the Admiral's reaction was a genuine smile or part of a nervous laugh, "I have yet to have a conversation with Lord Malak that wasn't one." With that, he turned on his heel and led Sarna up the rampway, through the large doors to the _Leviathan's_ bridge.

Sarna found herself in a large, circular room. Consoles lined the wall and several dozen Sith officers sat at their computers or scuttled between them, directing both the _Leviathan_ and the Sith blockade around Taris. The bridge's viewport stretched in a semi-circle around half the room, providing a full view of the planet below.

On the far side of the room stood Darth Malak, himself. He appeared as a silhouette impressed upon the brightness of Taris. Sarna followed Admiral Karath the length of the bridge, waiting for the Sith Lord to acknowledge them. As she approached, his features seemed to form within the outlines of his frame.

Darth Malak was a full head taller than both her and the Admiral, if not more, and he wore black and red armor along his whole body. While it was partially covered by a dark half-cape, Sarna could make out ornate patterns, ancient Sith symbols, weaved across the armor. The metal prosthesis which covered the bottom third of the Sith Lord's face was more prominent as he turned towards them, even though it did stretch around to the back of his head. The metal cylander was only emphasized by his baldness and the two dark, tattooed stripes which stretched over his head and ended over his brow.

But it was Malak's eyes which distracted Sarna. They pierced down over his metallic jaw, forcing her to look past it. To think of what Sith Force he might be capable of using on her, with merely a stare, made her squirm. How could she lie about her actions to such a man? Someone who might kill her with a wave of his hand and not a second thought?

She paid heed to the words of Admiral Karath and kept her silence while the Sith Lord stared her down. "This is the Lieutenant which oversaw the investigation into Abeon's death, Lord Malak," Karath reported, bowing slightly as he began to speak. The Dark Lord's gaze shifted between the Admiral to the Lieutenant. She couldn't remember a time when she stood more rigidly at attention.

"So," his electronic-enhanced voice sounded like it was filtered through a metallic gravel, "You determined that Abeon was murdered by Bastila Shan?"

"Yes," Sarna stammered before settling herself, "Lord Malak. His wounds were consistent with a lightsaber. We. . . I believe that the Jedi was attempting to procure launch codes to escape the planet." She hoped the Sith Lord was willing to accept the explanation. It was the true purpose behind Abeon's death, after all.

"The investigation is still ongoing, my lord," Karath continued her though, "I've ordered a full search into potential surveillance records and the interrogation of any potential witnesses." Sarna's heart stopped. Any investigation she wasn't involved in would certainly lead to the truth of what happened being revealed. That would place her in the hotel room where Abeon was murdered. Worse that her failure to stop Starr from killing him, the Sith might think that she was a conspirator in the governor's murder. "Given a few more days-"

Darth Malak raised a hand, signaling him to stop, "There is no need, Admiral." Karath seemed to jump at Malak's arm motion. "If Bastila has indeed secured our launch codes, it is only a matter of time before she flees the system. We cannot risk her escaping Taris." The Dark Lord turned back to face the viewport, "Destroy the entire planet."

Sarna looked to the Admiral. Saul Karath was in a state of shock. "The…" he took a cautious step back, "the entire planet, Lord Malak? The population of the planet is in the billions. We'd be slaughtering countless innocent civilians. Not to mention our own men still on the surface."

Darth Malak spun back toward the Admiral, his half-cape flaring out behind him. He leaned forward until his sharp eyes were inches away from Karath's. They narrowed, and for a moment, the entire room – men, women, aliens, consoles, droids – seemed to freeze in time. Sarna didn't so much hold her breath as the air simply stopped flowing to her lungs.

"Your predecessor once made the mistake of questioning my orders, Admiral," Darth Malak's electronic voice echoed across the entire room. It grated deep into Sarna's spine like a hundred nails scraping across a metal surface. "Surely, you are not so foolish as to make the same mistake."

Admiral Karath appeared to shrink before her eyes. The proud officer reduced to a whimpering man before the power of the Dark Lord before him. "Of…" he began, attempting to regain his composure, "Of course not, my Lord." The Admiral bowed at the waste, staring at the Dark Lord's feet as he spoke, "I will do as you command."

"An intelligent choice, Admiral." Darth Malak rose and returned to his position facing the viewport, and the planet below. With his Lord facing away, Admiral Karath summoned enough will to raise his head and stand at attention. "Lieutenant," Sarna snapped as the Dark Lord addressed her, "Do you agree with my assessment that the planet must be destroyed?"

Throughout the entire ordeal, Sarna had stood stiffly and quietly to the side, not wishing to anger the man who could strike fear into Admiral Saul Karath. She knew the question was a test, and not a particularly difficult one. Whatever desire she had to save those she knew on the surface was far overshadowed by her fear of angering the Lord Malak. "If Bastila Shan has indeed acquired our launch codes, then it is only a matter of time before she uses them to escape. There are important assets on Taris that must be evacuated prior to the planet's destruction, so the auto-targeting code cannot be changed for at least a few hours, however, we can program our capital ships to avoid firing on most of our own landing pads and ships." Sarna knew she was rambling, but felt the need to show Malak that she believed his decision was a rational one. "Therefore, planetary destruction is the most viable option to prevent the Jedi was escaping."

The room continued to pause. Sarna felt sweat moisten in her palms, but she resisted the urge to wipe them dry. Then Darth Malak, Dark Lord of the Sith Empire, laughed.

It was neither long, nor deep, but through his electronic and gravely filters, Darth Malak laughed. "You will have a long and promising military career, if you continue to serve as you do now, Lieutenant." For good measure, he laughed once more. "Admiral, it will take several hours to begin the bombardment, so I suggest you begin preparations immediately."

Admiral Karath glanced at Sarna, but his face remained focused on the back of Lord Malak's head. "As you command, my Lord." He stepped back, as if preparing to turn about-face, but was stopped when Malak began to speak, again.

"Admiral," the Dark Lord began, his eyes fixed on the bright globe outside the viewport, "Wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy."

Sarna trailed Karath off the _Leviathan's_ bridge. Even though she had spoken of it, justified it, she could not begin to comprehend the destruction of the entire planet. Taris was a megacity, with a population density close to Coruscant's in some regions. A majority of the planet was composed of oceans, true, but every square inch of land was layered with level upon level of the populace.

Without hesitating, the moment the doors to the bridge shut behind them, Admiral Karath turned and seized her shoulder. He pulled her close, their eyes practically touched. "You will personally oversee our evacuation of the planet," he commanded. The feeble man who bowed before the Dark Lord had vanished; a strong and virile Admiral, a hero of the Mandalorian Wars, stood in his place. "I will stall the bombardment as long as I can, but it will begin before the day is through. If one tenth of our forces survive, then you will be a Lieutenant Commander once Taris has been reduced to rubble."

The Admiral spoke quickly, but with the gravitas of his position. He unclasped his hand from her shoulder, forcing Sarna to recenter her weight a step behind where she had been. "I understand, Sir," was all she could say.

"Very good. When this is completed, you will report to back to duty aboard the _Leviathan_ ," Admiral Karath continued.

"Here, Sir?" Sarna was shocked. Was this a punishment? A promotion? She wasn't certain that she wanted to serve on board the same ship where Darth Malak resided. Part of her hoped that this first encounter with the Sith Lord would also be her last.

"It is rare for Lord Malak to take a liking to one of his officers," Admiral Karath whispered and his eyes darted from side to side, looking behind him and past her, as if expecting someone to eavesdrop. "His favor is an asset that few will ever possess. You can use that," he placed a hand back onto her shoulder, "And I can use it through you."

Now she understood. It should have been obvious, the difference in Malak's demeanor towards the Admiral after he asked her to speak. Now she was the Admiral's newest tool in tempering the Dark Lord. No doubt, like many of Darth Malak's decisions in the wake of Revan's death, the Admiral disapproved of destroying Taris. Likely, he would attempt to use her in attempting to dissuade Malak from similar tendencies in the future. But at what risk to herself?

And, yet, something else weighed on her mind. "Sir, may I speak freely?"

"If you are brief. We cannot waste time, Lieutenant." Admiral Karath released her shoulder, and began marching away from the bridge doors. Sarna hurried in his shadow.

"Is all this effort, all these resources, worth spending on a single Jedi?" It was a question she'd never dare ask before. But much had changed in the past few minutes.

Saul Karath paused before turning to face her. "For Lord Malak, all the Sith's resources are worth killing the only other person to claim credit for taking Lord Revan's life." With that answer, the Admiral sidestepped down another hall, "You have an evacuation to supervise, Lieutenant Commander Ketra," he yelled back to her as he disappeared down the corridor, "I suggest you begin soon if you want your commission aboard the _Leviathan_ to be a pleasant one."

Sarna cursed Ensign Gaius Starr as she marched down to the hangar. Yun Genda's humors fell deaf on her ears as she relayed the order to evacuate Taris through his shuttle's com system. If one twentieth of the Sith's forces survived the planet's destruction, it would be a miracle, and she was charged with rescuing twice that number.

Gaius Starr, in his deceit, his rash decision to shoot Abeon, his decision to leave her… alive. This was his fault. Had he left well enough alone, Darth Malak would have no reason to destroy Taris, no need to pull her from her post and station her aboard the _Leviathan_ , where she would be the Admiral's newest pet to be controlled and tossed aside once useless.

Sarna had been happy enough on Taris. It was a backwater planet, there wasn't much for an officer to do but drink, but she'd been content with it. There were worse assignments out there, and even her company was lively enough to keep such a dull task interesting. Now she would be lucky to see a fraction of those men and women again.

Yun was ordered to launch the shuttle and aide in the evacuation. Sarna stayed behind on the _Leviathan_ , asking for an escort to the communications deck, where she could better correspond with the Sith bases spread out across the surface. What had started as a pleasant evening with a friend had devolved into the most taxing hours of her life.

It was only a matter of hours before Admiral Karath gave the order to bombard the planet, all to prevent Bastila Shan from using the Sith's launch codes. The launch codes stolen by Gaius Starr.

For certain, though no one else was aware, Sarna's mind was made up. Gaius Starr was the destroyer of Taris.


	17. The Destruction of Taris

**Chapter 16: The Destruction of Taris**

Zelka Forn placed the datapad back onto his desk and coughed. On top of the dwindling inventory, now he was sick. Doctors aren't allowed to get sick. It was a rule an old mentor had taught him.

"If you can't take care of yourself, why should anyone trust you to take care of them?"

As a practical matter, his teacher was hoping he would get more rest, something Zelka had failed to do often both in his youth and these past few days. It was a poor habit he'd developed since his first days of medical training. And, as always, the habit kicked him in the head once it had gone on for too long.

"You should go home for the day," Zelka's assistant called from his own desk across the one-roomed office. "I can take care of the inventory check. No one new has come in for nearly a week. Not with the Sith doubling their patrols on the local walkway."

Most of Zelka's regular customers knew that he was providing aid to the Republic soldiers on Taris. At the very least, they'd decided simply to stop providing him with business rather than turn him over to the Sith authorities. No one wanted to be accidently caught colluding with a Republic sympathizer. The poor Duros sitting in the corner was his only new patient in days.

"It's just a small bug, Gurney. I think I'll survive long enough to finish rationing out the supplies." Zelka's stock had grown perilously thin since the Sith started confiscating vaccines. Supposedly, they were to inoculate their soldiers to diseases from the local flora and fauna. Not that they would be of any use up here. Unless the Sith wandered into the Undercity for some godforsaken reason, the only flora they'd encounter on Taris would be houseplants. Zelka wasn't aware of any animals present on Taris that wouldn't be found on Coruscant or any other major city.

"You don't look like you'll live that long, Doctor Forn. I'm serious about you going home. I can call you if someone comes in." Despite his ethical dubiousness – Zelka had known Gurney was pawning medical supplies to the Exchange for years – Gurney had a good relationship with his boss. The clinic was a two-man operation, so they had grown to depend on one another. And he wasn't wrong, Zelka's ears were ringing to the point that it was difficult to hear.

"I might just have to take you up on that offer, Gurney," He glanced toward the Duros in the corner, staring at the wall, "Make sure you remember to-"

"Apply a dose of neural stims, then program the autoinjector to give him two more overnight. I remember, even if it is a waste." Like most Tarisians, Gurney was not a fan of Duros. He vocalized his disapproval of Zelka keeping him as a live-in patient often.

Zelka sighed, but ignored it, "Just one dose overnight, I think." Neural stims were expensive, and the Duros wasn't showing any signs of improvement or reaction. Still, no reason to cut the patient off entirely just yet. At least he wouldn't have to worry about Gurney stealing supplies today. From what he gathered, Gurney's contact in the Exchange wasn't thrilled with how the meeting 'Gurney' arranged for Captain Onasi had ended.

"Got it. One dose from me, one dose from the auto…" Gurney's voice trailed off without finishing the thought. Zelka didn't immediately react, instead he kept his focus on closing and securing his console. It was only after he rubbed his temples for several seconds to ease the headache that he looked over to Gurney's desk.

The boy was standing by the door, looking through the large window that made up its top half. "What's wrong, son?" Zelka asked, rising to look outside through his own window.

Gurney didn't answer. He didn't need to. Falling from the clouds were hundred, thousands of red streaks, blaster bolts from what must have been an entire fleet of ships above the planet. Any moment now, they would strike the city.

Zelka sprinted across the room, grabbing his assistant by the arm, "Come with me!" he yelled, shaking Gurney from his shock. Adrenaline coursed through him, suppressing his headache and clearing his thoughts. There was one thing he had to do quickly, and he needed help.

"What?" Gurney responded, tugging his arm away, "We have to leave! Can't you see what's happening?" The boy wouldn't understand. It wasn't in his nature.

Zelka grasped his shoulders firmly, "If you are going to do one good thing before you die, you'll follow me." He released the assistant and fled back into the office, past his desk. There wasn't time to regret being so blunt with Gurney.

He input his private passcode into the door panel. For years, Zelka had restricted access to the medical wing of the hospital to himself and patients, but he needed the assistant's help right now.

Inside, the eight kolto tanks along the wall were each occupied by a Republic soldier, as he'd left them. "How long have they been here?" Gurney stood in the doorway.

"It doesn't matter," Zelka waived for Gurney to follow, but the boy stayed in place, "Gurney, you have to help me!"

"When the Sith find out what you've done-"

"The Sith are destroying Taris!" Zelka could not recall the last time he had lost his temper. "Now help me!"

He hesitated, but eventually Gurney approached Zelka. The doctor handed him several small vials of medicine. "I don't think I can-"

"It's a sedative. Just push the bottle into the access slot on the right side of each tank. Then confirm the dosage on the tank's console. Hurry." Zelka took another four bottles to do the same.

Gurney did as he was ordered, placing the vial into the tube attached to the kolto tank. Yet, his hand hovered above the input key as his eyes focused on the unconscious soldier within. "Will it kill her?"

"No," Zelka paused. There wasn't much time left. "But it will make sure they don't wake up when the building collapses. The tanks are supposed to wake them up if it breaks. At the very least, this will make sure that they'll die in their sleep." He watched as Gurney nodded slowly. The boy still hesitated before pressing the command input and moving on to the next tank. All around them, the building began to shake. Already, the first of the Sith's blasts had struck the planet.

The two men finished their task quickly as the tremors intensified. "I have one extra," Gurney informed him, holding the small vial out.

Zelka laid a hand on Gurney's back and they walked solemnly to the office's balcony. He briefly considered flying off in his speeder, but there was nowhere to go. Glancing back through the open door, the Duros was still-unresponsively staring into the distance. He needed no sedative. Even in the face of certain death, his mind would not react.

Along the horizon, the Sith's blaster fire rained down on the city, bursting into bright crimson flames wherever it touched. Buildings disintegrated into rubble, shaking the entire planet with each blast. The great city of Taris crumbled to dust and debris before their eyes. Someone screamed briefly in the distance, before a bright flash erupted and the voice was silenced. Yet, Zelka could still hear the quiet clink of the empty sedative bottle falling from Gurney's hand and cracking at his feet.

There the two men remained, silently observing their home's destruction until the balcony collapsed.

* * *

Zaerdra slammed her fist on the table. "Dammit!" she screamed at no one in particular, "Gadon's not even in a coffin she's already trying to split the gang." The Twi'lek fell back into the office chair. Gadon's chair.

Across the desk, a Sullustan and a human glanced sideways at each other. "«Anglu doesn't want to split the Beks,»" the Sullustan spoke a bastardized variant of Sullustese and Huttese. Zaerdra couldn't speak the former language, but she got the general message. "«Anglu wants you to say she leads the Beks.»"

"«The last thing anyone wants right now is a civil war, not while the Vulkars are tearing themselves apart,»" the human was more articulate than his companion, though he, too, spoke Huttese, "«We can take control of the Lower City if we act. But, we have to be united.»"

"And we'll be united under my leadership," Zaerdra stared them down in turns, "and if Anglu truly wanted me to step down, she'd ask me to do so herself. She wouldn't send two nerf-herders who can barely speak Basic." The meeting had gone on for over an hour and was getting nowhere. She continued, more calmly than her previous outburst. "Everyone knew Gadon was training me to lead the Beks when he stepped down. It's just now becoming clear that his word holds less weight coming from the grave."

"«You know most of us thought Gadon should have stepped down some time ago, after the accident.»" Zaerdra knew the conversation would end here eventually, she just didn't think the point would have been made so condescendingly, the Human shaking a finger while he spoke.

"The Hidden Beks wouldn't exist without Gadon. You know that as well as I do," she snapped, her temper starting to flair again.

"«Gadon's guerilla war against the Mandalorians made us popular for a long time, I'll give you that. But it was also his failures that let the Black Vulkars make gains in the Lower City. He could have crushed them years ago, before or after the accident, but he chose not to.»"

"Gadon chose not to start shooting people in the open, even while his own men, like you and me told him we should be attacking Black Vulkars on sight." Zaerdra's fists were clenched on the desk. "His leadership kept us in power as the more honorable option. Civilians don't run away from us when we walk down the street."

The human sighed, but didn't respond. He stood from his chair and urged the Sullustan to do the same. Gars and Rho had been trusted lieutenants under Gadon. A few days ago, Zaerdra would have considered them friends. She would have considered Anglu to be even more than that.

"«You know most Hidden Beks are behind Anglu, Zaerdra. None of us want to be killing friends for this room,»" Rho reasoned. "«Anglu still wants you by her side. Like Gadon had you.»" The Sullustan had reiterated the sentiment several times over the course of the conversation, and each repetition was less persuasive than the last.

Zaerdra had heard enough. If Anglu wanted the office chair, she'd have to toss her out of it. Zaerdra almost let the two negotiators leave the room in silence, but thought better of it as the elevator arrived. "If Anglu wants a parley, she comes herself next time."

The doors started to close on the two Beks, but Gars held the door open, "«I'll let her know you want to talk in person. See if we can arrange something soon, before this starts to get violent.»"

Zaerdra waited several seconds after the doors closed before screaming in frustration. It was hard enough losing Gadon, but seeing over half, nearly two thirds, of the gang side with Anglu in this debate was wearing on her in ways she'd never anticipated.

"You'll be by my side. Every meeting, every race, every fight. You'll be right there," Gadon had told her several years ago. It was soon after the accident stole his real eyes, and within days of Brejik betraying them all by joining the Vulkars. She wondered how much support she would have right now had she not killed Brejik on the swoop platform, if the Hidden Beks still had a uniting enemy in the traitor who killed Gadon Thek.

Griff had bought her an entire bottle of Tarisian ale to celebrate the promotion to Gadon's second in command. Then he borrowed enough credits from her to buy three bottles later that same night.

Zaerdra rubbed her eyes. Why did Griff always invade her thoughts like this when she was angry?

Now wasn't the time to think of that. She'd just dealt with the last of her baggage from that relationship. That Republic Captain would take Mission far from Taris, away from the gang war her brother left her in the middle of. Zaerdra had to admit she would miss the girl's spunk, but she'd be damned before Mission ended up anything like her older brother.

Grabbing the blaster pistol hidden under the desk, Zaerdra slowly paced her way to the elevator. Any Hidden Beks who were still loyal to her would have to be on guard if Anglu got tired of negotiating and decided to claim leadership by force. The gang had held this base through one galactic war and several street wars. Zaerdra refused to be the boss who lost the building to a challenger.

The lights in the elevator flickered as she reached the main floor. Near the bar, one of the Aqualish bartenders was picking up a broken cup, grunting about the glass shards scuffing his already cheap-looking boots.

A low rumbling came from below Zaerdra's feet, and a sharp crash signaled several more glasses falling from the racks. What could have caused that? Explosives? Was Anglu already attacking?

The thought froze Zaerdra for several seconds before she found her head again. She sprinted for the front entrance, blaster at her side. Another rumble forced Zaerdra to lean against the wall so as not to lose her balance. No, it couldn't be Anglu. She wouldn't make her move this soon. It had to be another gang. Or the Sith. But there were no reports of anyone moving on the Beks, something this size couldn't have gone unnoticed.

Another shake knocked Zaerdra off her feet. She caught herself with both hands, dropping the blaster pistol. All around her, other Hidden Beks were yelling, scattering in different directions. No one knew what was happening or what to do. One person near Zaerdra was leaning his entire back against the wall, bracing himself against the building's movements. His eyes darted all across the ceiling, as if looking for something up there.

Zaerdra stumbled to her feet, but the building had not stopped rocking since the last tremor. Step by step, as if wading through water on a sinking ship, she made her way to the front of the base.

But, as she reached the front room, the building buckled once again. A bright flash and the sound of metal being ripped from its place blinded Zaerdra. Deafened and dazed, she crawled forward. Her eyesight slowly returning, the world around her appeared from behind the blackness.

She reached out with a hand to keep moving, but when she leaned forward, the floor was no longer there. Still having trouble focusing, she tried to stand. This was the entrance of the base. It had to be.

To her horror, she slowly realized that the hallway outside the base was gone. There was no connection between the Hidden Beks' building and the rest of the Lower City. Instead, empty chasm stretched farther down than Zaerdra could see. She could feel the wind bellowing through the new opening in the city. Above her, as well, an entire section of the tower was missing, exposing the base to the elements above.

Shocked, unable to comprehend what she was seeing, Zaerdra fell backwards. A spike of pain shot through her sensitive lekku as they landed under her skull. Dazed from the fall and the pain, Zaerdra stared upwards into the city. A dark shadow of something tall and thick moved slowly downwards, a whale-sized missile aiming for the Hidden Bek's residence.

A voice cried out as one of the great Taris skyscrapers collided with another.

* * *

Holdan sank deeper into the soft table with every movement of the Twi'lek girls' hands. It felt as if a piece of heaven was being pressed into his back by each of their fingers. For everything that he had to put up with working for the Exchange, there were definitely some perks. Davik had picked up these girls from a Trandoshan slave trader who was late on some spice payments. Slaves as well trained as these two, and the other dozen or so in the bunch, were worth nearly twice what they were traded for, but Holdan was glad the Trandoshans thought keeping Davik Kang's friendship was worth the lost profit.

Holdan was lucky to even be in this position right now. After Canderous brought that Jedi and the Republic soldier into Davik's place, the boss told him and Calo Nord to run background checks on the two newcomers. Holdan insisted they choose who would look into which individual while Davik was still around. Once the boss was gone, he knew Calo would push the random grunt onto him and take the Jedi for himself.

Holdan had suggested flipping a credit, but Davik just assigned them himself. The boss obviously wasn't happy about having to settle a petty argument between two of his own men, but he ended up putting Calo on the grunt, so Holdan was fine with adding a little frustration to Davik's evening. "Wanted his best man on the hardest job," he'd said. Holdan would have been insulted if he wasn't too busy getting worked over by the Twi'lek girls.

Checking Bastila Shan's history was easy. Girl had been all over the holonet for over a year since she assassinated Revan. After ten minutes and a couple of forwarded articles to Davik, Holdan took off for the massage parlor. Poor Calo Nord was probably still combing through public records looking for anything that even tangentially mentioned Ensign Whatshisname.

Holdan yawned and shifted position as the massage table started vibrating. This was new. He had no idea when Davik might've had these installed.

To his dismay, however, the Twi'leks' hands disappeared from his back. He thought it might only be for second, but the magic fingers never returned. Angrily, he rose from the table, "Hey, you better get back to business. We're not done here until you've…" But the slaves were nowhere in sight. "Hey!" Holdan shouted to the empty room, before standing from the still-vibrating table.

Yet the vibrations didn't stop when his feet touched the floor. It wasn't the massage table that was shaking, it was the entire room. Holdan dropped the towel he was wearing and teetered towards his clothes, which were piled in the corner of the room.

His pants were barely above his waist when the building rumbled violently, knocking him to the floor. Holdan half-crawled to the door, tugging his pants back up as he moved. The Sith must be attacking Davik's estate. It was the only explanation. Somehow, they knew the Jedi was here. Not even the Exchange was going to keep the Sith at bay if they knew about her.

Still shirtless, Holdan took off down the hall. If he could make it to the speeder bay, he could escape the building before the Sith brought the entire tower down. He ran to the spiral staircase, flying down the steps. At the base, his leg caught on something solid, and he sprawled forward to the ground.

Looking back, what appeared to be a headless-T3 unit laid sideways beneath his foot. Were the Sith already inside the estate? Who else would've blasted the droid? Holdan's eyes darted around. There were no Sith in the corridor. To his dismay, though, Canderous Ordo ran past, followed closely by the Jedi.

Anywhere near her was the last place Holdan wanted to be at this moment. If Sith soldiers were indeed ready to start marching down the hall, anyone in the vicinity of Bastila Shan was going to be caught in the crossfire. Holdan refused to die over this Jedi.

The ankle which had caught on the malfunctioned astromech ached and throbbed, but Holdan managed to pick himself up. He limped his way toward the speeder bay. It was more difficult now than ever to stay upright, but the bay wasn't far. He could hear the creaking of metal above and below as the building prepared to collapse around him.

Holdan knew this estate like the back of his hand, yet it was nearly impossible to concentrate on where he was going while the walls continued to shudder and buckle. Sparks flew from both open and closed doors along the passage, and the lights had started to spark, too. The corridor was only half-lit by the time he reached the final turn.

At last, he rounded the corner before the speeder bay. Suddenly, though, found himself smacking into someone running at full speed in the opposite direction. Holdan landed on his backside, but his focus on escaping was unfazed. He leaned forward to stand, but the man he'd run into grabbed ahold of his arm before he could get back to his feet.

"Hudrow!" Holdan shouted, recognizing the man he'd run into, "Let go! I have to get to the speeder bay, the Sith are-"

"It's gone!" Hudrow tugged at his limb, pulling down on him and screaming into his face, "It's all gone!"

Holdan jerked his arm away. He kicked Hudrow when he tried to grab hold of him again. He left the man lying on the floor, crying out the same repeated phrase over and over again. Holdan could still hear him as he approached the speeder bay door. Like the doors in the hall, this one was malfunctioning, too, which he discovered after waiving his hand over the doorpanel several times in frustration.

Holdan grunted and grabbed at the center of the door, clawing it open manually until the gap was just wide enough for him to squeeze past. The door nearly clamped shut on his leg as he pressed through.

But, instead of the familiar hum from the speeder bay, he was greeted by a torrential gale. A harsh wind swept through an open space where there should have been a garage. The building ended directly in front of Holdan, where beyond the jagged and ripped metal – what remained of the floor – was an empty chasm, the depths of which could not be seen from this high in the air.

Holdan pressed his back against the door. Outside, explosions erupted from every tower in view. One by one, they crumbled and collapsed. His hands grasped at the seam of the mechanical door, attempting to pry it open again behind his back. Yet he could not look away from the destruction in front of his own eyes. An orange blur soared past him. The starship momentarily distracted Holdan with thoughts of escape. But the ship did not halt for him, leaving the man with his back to a closed door and an endless abyss at his feet.

The entire tower rocked once more, and Holdan was unable to maintain his balance with his injured ankle. He fell forward, scraping at the metal flooring to catch himself before tumbling past the artificial cliff-face. A beam tore at his arm, ripping the flesh and leaving a trail of crimson blood plummeting through the air behind him into the depths of the city below.

* * *

Shaleena stood towards the back of the group of young children. Since she was their age, Rukil's stories had provided a small ray of hope in the dark depths of the Undercity. For as long as she could remember, the old man spun tales of a promised land hidden within the depth of the Undercity of Taris. A place where even wretches such as themselves could live a life of luxury, with mechanical servants catering to their every need.

She chuckled quietly to herself at how she'd been foolish enough to believe such stories when she was young. Yet, Rukil's words could make even the impossible sound real. He spoke with a conviction that had convinced more than one of the villagers to journey off past the safety of their gates in hope of finding a better place for themselves. It was rare that they ever returned, and those that did seldom lived much longer. Worse than any disease or rakghoul attack in the wilds of the Undercity was the despair one felt after all hope of a better life had been lost. The village leaders tried often to silence Rukil, fearing that his stories were doing more harm than good. Yet, to this day, he continued to preach on.

The crowd of children began to disperse as Rukil reached his story's conclusion, the same speech he ended with after every telling. "There are those who doubt what I tell you today," the words marked the moment nearly all listeners lost their interest. It was one thing to entertain his fantastical musings, but another to believe in them. Oddly, it was after Shaleena had passed the age that most of her peers gave up listening to Rukil's musings entirely that she began to stay for the rest of his speech. "The promised land is a real place, my children. As real as you or I. Our ancestors, the people who walked along the surface of Taris, before there was a city above our heads, lived in the promised lands. It was peaceful, and it was wonderful. And we can go there again! But you have to listen. You must listen and learn my words, or you will be cursed to live in this barren land until you are as old as me."

That last part always caused a few of the youngest children to start crying. Shaleena suspected that Rukil knew the affect it had, and cynically used that feeling of despair to win a few more followers of his own.

"Those of you who hope, who search for the promised land. One day, you will find it, and lead us to the city of our ancestors." The old man waived a hand across the sea of dispersing bodies. "Those who wish to continue the search, remain with me."

As always, only one or two people stayed as the crowd disappeared. They were the few who had bought into Rukil's philosophy for some time, and would one day venture beyond the city, likely to their own deaths.

Shaleena traced her walk back across the camp to the small tent she shared with her brothers and mother. Since those two men came down through the elevator shaft and left with Igear, her brother had taken over the salvage shop. The money was good enough that they hadn't held up the elevator all week.

Part of her hoped Igear wouldn't return so they could keep the shop. It made her feel ill to wish harm on him. So whenever the thought occurred, she tried to clarify it in her head, to make clear that she wished for Igear to find a place among the upworlders and that they'd taken him away to a better life. But, even that thought depressed her. She knew there was no place for people like Igear or herself in the upworld.

As Shaleena walked, something started to irritate her nose, then seemed to move to her throat. It felt as if she were becoming ill, and the symptoms were settling in all at once. She couldn't tell if it would be a better relief to sneeze or cough, but when she raised her hand to her throat, something struck the back of her hand.

It was small, like several pebbles falling in rapid succession. Then there were more, brushing past her arm and over her head. She cautiously looked to the city above her, shielding her eyes. All around her, people were starting to murmur and point. One of the enclosed walkways above was starting to collapse. Years of strain on the metal was finally giving way.

Shaleena ran as far from the falling tunnel as fast as her legs would carry her. With a loud creak followed by a sudden crash, the metal cylinder landed just on the outskirts of the village.

"The gate!" someone nearby yelled.

The tunnel had fallen directly on top of the village gate, knocking out a gap slarge enough for an entire pack of rakghouls to crawl through. Surely most of the creatures were frightened by the danger and the noise, but it would not be long before some of the braver ones ventured into the village.

Shaleena began to panic. Weapons were rare among the villagers, if a pack of the beasts found the opening, they'd be overrun in minutes.

After a moment, though, she was distracted from her panic. The ground began shaking beneath her feet, as if the entire surface of the planet was moving at once. More of the small pebbles, metal bits, started to fall from above. Shaleena had learned about rain when she was young, and wondered if this was a similar experience.

The dust from the fallen debris was beginning to build now, so much so that it was hanging in the air like smoke from a fire. She coughed, looking around wildly to find if there was some place where the air was clear.

Running forward, Shaleena held her ragged shirt up over her mouth, exposing her stomach to the frigid air and the harsh dust. The villagers of the Undercity were scrambling in every direction, and she had to shove people out of her way so as not to be pushed over herself. More large pieces of the city, some larger than the tunnel were beginning to fall around the camp.

People screamed as their friends and homes were trapped or crushed by collapsing metal. A metal rod twice her size nearly struck Shaleena's head, landing so close to her that she nearly tripped over it. She stumbled sideways, trying to keep her balance. Then, through the dust and the hysterical crowd, something caught her eye.

She couldn't make it out at first. Like a bright, yellow streak, it stretched from the ground up to the city above. She moved towards it, cautiously stretching out a hand to touch it. Almost to her surprise, her hand passed through, casting a shadow on the ground. It was light. Yellow light.

Shaleena stepped into the beam, letting it cover her entire body. Her feet frozen in place, she looked upwards, tracing the light up to the sky. As the world around her collapsed, she smiled, suddenly realizing what the miracle light must be.

For the first time in her life, Shaleena could see the sunlight.


	18. The Ebon Hawk

**Chapter 17: The** _ **Ebon Hawk**_

It wasn't the constant hum of the _Ebon Hawk's_ engine that kept Mission awake. If anything, the noise was comforting, the closest reminder of the constant clamor and commotion that no walls could hide on Taris. The ship's metal interior was the same, as well. All her bedrooms over the past decade had been solid metal like these. Occasionally when she closed her eyes, she would start to think she was inside her room in the Hidden Bek's base, again, instead of traveling on a ship, lightyears away from her home and traveling farther by the second.

She was desperate for sleep, anything to take her mind off the planet that lay in ruins behind them. A few times, she could feel her mind drift off, as the engine drowned out the sounds of explosions and screams still ringing in her ears hours after they'd been silenced.

But Mission's sleep was hardly peaceful. Only moments would pass before she jolted awake, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Replacing the peace of sleep was the memory of jumping, Gaius's hands disappearing behind the loading ramp, and the feeling of air starting to rush past her face as she plunged downward toward the planet's surface. Then her eyes would start to become watery, again.

Mission hated that feeling. She'd risked her life plenty of times in the past. Pickpocketing armed Vulkars, insulting drunk Gamorreans, and dodging Taris's police force were all regular pastimes of hers for almost as long as she could remember. Then there was that time she and Big Z had wandered around Taris's labyrinthian sewers while a rancor monster tried to sniff them out. Heck, she'd jumped off ledges before, like the one the other day when she was rescuing Zaalbar at the swoop track.

Something just made this one, on the rooftops of the Taris's Upper City, different. Maybe the idea that she was truly gone when she jumped. That she wouldn't have made it to the _Ebon Hawk_ without the Jedi's magic – or whatever it was that saved her at the last second – and without it, her body would be lying on the planet's surface right now. Being so helpless, unable to rescue herself like she always could, combined with her home falling apart around her, kept Mission from thinking about anything else.

She sat upright in the bunk, gazing around the _Ebon Hawk's_ small starboard-side dormitory. An Ithorian woman, one of the refugees from the apartment rooftop, laid in the bunk to her right, snoring loudly. The alien's naturally echoing voice filled the room, making it impossible to even try falling asleep again.

"Z," Mission whispered to the Wookie sleeping in the other bunk. "Zaalbar," she repeated, louder this time. Her friend grumbled and turned over without waking. Mission sighed in frustration and considered whether or not to try harder. Eventually, she decided it was better to leave him be. No need to rob him of a good night's sleep just because she couldn't get one.

Instead, she stood and wandered out of the room, towards the main hold. Like earlier, most of the refugees were still in here. Aliens of a dozen different races slumped along the walls and parts of the floor. There were only so many beds to go around on the freighter, so most made do with what space they could find. It reminded Mission of when she was younger, before joining the Beks and being poor in the Lower City.

By the center console, Mission saw that the little Togruta girl was still leaning against it. She hadn't moved from that spot since boarding the ship. Mission carefully stepped around the girl, trying not to startle her. Across from the console, an Iridonian was resting his horned head along the doorframe leading to the cockpit, and Mission had to navigate over him, as well.

Carth was resting in the cockpit. He was alone with the coldness of space outside the viewport. Mission stared and marveled for a moment. She'd never had the chance to look through a viewport while in hyperspace before. The blue and white swirls shooting all around the _Ebon Hawk_ was a sight to behold, distracting her long enough to forget why she'd come up here in the first place.

"Trouble sleeping?" Carth said, his eyes still closed. Mission would have been more surprised he was awake if she wasn't distracted by the light show ahead.

"Yeah, my mind's just kinda wandering. You have trouble, too?" she slid into the co-pilot's chair on the right side of the room, "Should I be worried that the pilot's eyes are closed?"

Carth opened his eyes just enough that she could see his pupil scanning over the console. "The ship pretty much flies itself once we make the jump to lightspeed. No need to fly it until we're getting ready to drop out of hyperspace." He paused long enough to yawn and stretch his arms out in front of him. "Have you ever been on a ship before?" he asked once he finished.

"When I was five." It was one of the earliest memories Mission could recall clearly. "My brother and I were leaving Sleyehron for Taris. We stuffed ourselves inside a packing crate in a star freighter's cargo hold for the trip." She could see Carth raise an eyebrow. It probably wasn't normal for someone like him to think about stowing away as cargo. "We took enough food and water with us in the crate to make the trip. Y'know, not exactly first class, but it wasn't awful. We made it to Taris in one piece."

She remembered how Griff had made a game out of the trip with her. He told her to pretend she was a tiny mouse that was hiding from predators whenever they heard footsteps or voices outside the crate. He'd rewarded her with some of his own food rations whenever she 'won.' It wasn't until she was older that she'd realized how there were times on that ship when even the slightest sound might have given them away.

Carth didn't respond to her story at first. "This is the same brother you told me about the other day? Griff, right?"

"Yeah, that's him," Mission had forgotten that she'd mentioned Griff to Carth and was almost more surprised that he remembered. Her brother wasn't a topic she touched on often, "I don't really want to talk about him."

Carth's face dropped, though he tried to hide it. "Was he on-"

"No, he wasn't on Taris, I just…" Mission felt her voice catch in her throat. Suddenly, the swirling blue and white images flying past the ship made her feel as if she were falling endlessly through space. The same nightmare which kept her from sleeping now surfaced while she was awake. Mission stared blankly at the viewport, forcing down tears that were fighting their way to her eyes, trying not to think about the moment she fell.

"So, this is your first time behind the controls of a starship?" Carth's warm voice snapped her back to the room.

She breathed deeply before responding, "That's right." She sniffed and wiped the moisture from her face.

"Do you want to learn how to run a sensor check?" Carth leaned forward in his seat, flicking back several small, silver levers on the center console. The lights in the cockpit dimmed. "It's about the only thing we can do in hyperspace."

Mission was confused by the offer, but didn't want to turn down the gesture. "Sure," she replied hesitantly, "I guess. I mean, what exactly does that do?"

Carth smiled, "We'll make sure that the _Ebon Hawk's_ reading our position right. Checking the systems confirms that the ship will adjust if it's about to fly through a star or bounce too close to a supernova."

She hoped Carth was trying to be helpful, but hearing about how the ship might burst into flames at any moment wasn't particularly soothing. "So how do we check 'em?"

"You see that switch?" he pointed to one of the levers he'd pulled back before the lights dimmed, "pump it twice, then hit the auxilerator, over there." His hand hovered above a small, green button, "that'll power down the sensors. The computer will notice the error, then switch it back on and run a diagnostic."

Mission went over the movements in her head and mimicked them with her left hand. It seemed simple enough. Nowhere near as difficult as slicing a security system, but messing up while hacking a door lock wouldn't cause the room to spontaneously implode. "And it's okay to shut off the sensors? We'll cover a lot of ground while they're off, won't we?"

"Smart thinking," Carth chuckled. "The computer will catch the shutdown almost instantly. If something goes wrong during that split second, then the sensors were malfunctioning anyway, and we couldn't have done anything to prevent it."

"Okay," Mission cautiously did as she was told, pumping the lever twice and pressing the green button on the console. As soon as her hand touched it, the entire cockpit seemed to buzz alive. The lights flickered back on, and the screen in front of her chair sped lines of code past faster than she could read.

"Well, what's it say?" Carth pointed her to the screen, which finally stopped spitting out gibberish.

Mission bent forward to read the last line. "Full functionality restored."

Carth seemed to beam with pride, "You're a natural, Mission. Soon, you'll be joyriding between systems."

She couldn't help but smile and laugh. It was just a few button presses. She was hardly on her way to becoming a pilot. Still, Mission appreciated the compliment. "Thanks," she blushed. Carth nodded in response, but it was obvious that he was still tired. His head leaned back, and he was struggling to keep his eyelids open. "I think I'll try and get some more rest," she stood and started to leave, but hadn't taken three steps before Carth stopped her.

"Mission, wait," he'd swung around in his chair to face her, with both his legs on one side, "believe me when I tell you that I know exactly what you're going through right now," he looked her straight in the eyes. There was a sincerity in his voice that was both comforting and disquieting, all at the same time. "I know it sucks today, worse than you ever thought it could, but I promise you that it will get better. The feeling will never go away completely," Carth paused. He turned back toward the viewport, staring out at the swirling pool of blue and white light, "you just learn to live with it."

She didn't really know how to respond to his word, just muttering a "Thanks, Carth," as she looked over his shoulder to get one last glimpse at the sea of hyperspace lights flying past the ship. Mission made her way back through the corridor and around the main hold, stepping lightly over the same Iridonian in the doorway, and carefully navigating by the other refugees. The Togruta girl had finally moved, but Mission didn't see her anywhere in the room.

Mission followed the dull hum of the engine to the back of the ship. Though she'd told Carth that her plan was to get some rest, she didn't feel much like bolting awake, again tonight. Instead, she tiptoed past the small medbay, where the Zeltron was still lying on the table. She'd heard someone mention that the woman had used up all the medpacs on the ship, and they'd be in trouble if someone else got hurt before they made it to Dantooine. Hopefully, no one was firing any blaster shots between here and their destination, anyway.

Mission was surprised to find Gaius in the engine room. He was sitting on the floor, fiddling with a panel in the T3 droid's head. "I thought you were asleep for the night," he said, turned to her and resting his tools on the ground.

"Carth was showing me how to run a sensor check or something." She sat cross-legged on the floor next to the T3, helping Gaius press the panel closed. They had to keep their voices slightly raised to hear each other over the engine.

"I'm surprised the ship didn't explode with you at the controls," he smiled. It was odd how friendly everyone was treating her now that her home planet was destroyed. The panel closed with a distinctive popping noise, and T3 whirred with approval.

"It was interesting, I guess," Mission ran a hand across the T3's head, feeling the panel they'd just closed. "What're you working on?"

Gaius sighed, "I was just wiping T3-M4, here, of Davik's background programs. Mostly automatic memory wipes and self-destruct functions." The little droid beeped something as a follow-up. "Teethree would like you to know that he was fully aware of those programs and could have deleted them himself."

"Well, I'm glad you looked it over." The droid whistled sadly. "Oh, so, what'd you do back on Taris the other day? Carth was angry with you, and he wouldn't say why." Mission realized this was the first time she'd been alone with Gaius since he'd met with the Mandalorian. She'd heard Carth yelling at him, but had no idea why. And Carth had dodged the issue when she asked about it on the way to the apartment building. He said it wasn't something that should worry her.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, visibly debating what to say. "Let's just say that I disobeyed an order." Mission's face soured at the vague response. Gaius rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, keeping the oil on his hands away, "I'll tell you more when you're older."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mission had been on the streets her entire life. The Lower City made you grow up fast, and she was just as adult as anyone down there. More mature than most, actually.

"It means that I'll tell you when you're older." Gaius wiped his hands on a rag lying next to his tools before standing. He held out a hand to help Mission up. She grasped it in her own hand, but had to double-take before she could stand, batting away memories of him and Bastila pulling her onto the _Ebon Hawk's_ loading ramp. "You don't have to squeeze so hard."

Mission didn't realize how tight her grip was until she released it. Part of her – the part of her which must have been the kid everyone was treating her as – wanted to hug the soldier who'd hoisted her onto the _Ebon Hawk_ , seeking safety in his presence. She buried the thought, folding her arms over her own chest, instead. "You have anything else planned to keep us awake?"

Gaius grinned, "If you find Canderous, I'll let you interrogate Davik with us."

Jumping at the opportunity, Mission rushed down the hall. Then she remembered the sleeping refugees and slowed her steps. Canderous was resting in the port-side dormitory, on the bed which mirrored the one she'd been sleeping in. The Mandalorian was so large, though, that both his feet twisted off to the side, hanging over the edge.

Mission peered around the room. Several others were sleeping in here, as well, including the preacher. That man was mumbling to himself in his sleep, but either it was gibberish or she couldn't make out any of the words. A green-skinned Twi'lek was in the third bed, snoozing peacefully, one of his lekku wrapped over his eyes like a blindfold.

Mission placed a hand on Canderous's shoulder, gently rocking his upper body. A strong hand reached out towards her neck, knocking her backwards and causing her to stumble against the back wall. The Mandalorian twisted upright in his seat and stared her down.

"Vao!" Canderous bellowed, before realizing their situation and lowering his voice. The preacher man mumbled something, but didn't wake. "What do you want, girl?"

Startled, Mission took a second to gather her thoughts, "Gaius sent me. He said you were going to talk to Davik."

The Mandalorian relaxed, his massive shoulders falling towards the back of the bedspread. "He wants to do this now?" he asked.

Mission shrugged her shoulders in response. It was apparently a good enough answer for Canderous, who led her out of the dormitory and towards the cargo bay, in the corridor between where she left Gaius in the engine room and where she found Canderous.

The soldier was standing outside the doorway, holding a blaster pistol in each hand. "They're set to stun," he said, tossing one to Mission. His action was unexpected enough that she nearly dropped the weapon, bouncing it between her hands a few times before getting a firm handle on it. "Don't shoot unless he does something funny. We're just going to have a talk with him. Should be simple enough."

"She's not coming with us, is she?" Canderous asked, eyeing Mission. Instead of responding to the question, Gaius just smirked before opening the cargo bay door and stepping inside.

They waited for Gaius to make sure the room was clear before following him. Davik Kang was sitting down in front of a plasteel cylinder on the far side of the cargo bay. His hands were behind his back, and some kind of belt tied them to the container. Mission had never thought about seeing the crime boss up close and personal like this. Normally, if you didn't work for him, seeing Davik in person meant that you were in some kind of trouble.

Gaius, Canderous, and Mission all lowered their blasters when he failed to move at their approach. Canderous walked up to the old man and kicked him in the leg, a bit more roughly than he probably needed to.

"I'm awake, Ordo," Davik muttered. For someone in his position, his voice was oddly defiant. "You've taken my ship, you can at least leave me some of my dignity."

"Well, coincidentally, your ship is why we're here," the Mandalorian placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy with him, Canderous," Gaius said, kneeling down and waiving the larger man off. "I just want to ask if there are any more surprises waiting for us on this bucket. Things like that trick you pulled in the cockpit."

"The one that landed you on your ass?" Davik smirked.

Gaius continued, unphased, "The one that got yours zapped by T3 and landed it here." Mission giggled behind him.

Davik rolled his eye, "This is a smuggling ship. If you want me to show you every hidden compartment, you'll have to untie me."

Canderous folded his arms. He'd backed off from his former boss and leaned against the cargo bay wall. "How stupid do you think we are? Just tell us if there's some failsafe to self-destruct the ship, or some trap that'll lock out the controls."

Davik glared defiantly at the man who'd betrayed him. "Remember," Gaius drew his attention, "If something happens to the _Hawk_ , you'll be on it."

That seemed to start the wheels turning in the crime boss's mind. "There's an automatic lockout if the ship arrives somewhere that wasn't pre-approved by myself before it launched." The other three all exchanged glances.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Canderous mused, cracking a smile.

"Now will you untie me? It's not like I can hijack the ship with all of you on it, and my arms are getting sore." Davik looked to both Gaius and Canderous in turn. Neither of the men changed their expression or showed any intent to release the crime boss. "What about you?" he turned his head to face Mission, "You don't seem like the heartless sort. How about helping me out of this situation?"

"I…" she wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

"Mission's with us," Gaius informed the room.

"You just lost your home and immediately join a group of thieves like these people?" Davik was ignoring both of the other men in the room, aiming his gaze straight at her, "Come now, convince them to let me go and I'll set you up with a nice apartment on Nar Shaddaa. Taris is gone, now, so do you know where you'll stay? With these thugs?"

Yesterday, Mission might've been tempted to stick the blaster into Davik's stomach and make him apologize. Or she would've had Zaalbar threaten to tear an arm off. It wasn't that she was violent, but you couldn't stand for an insult like that in the Lower City without someone making it out like you were weak.

For some reason, though, she just didn't have the heart for it right now. Maybe it was the way he told her so matter-of-factly that her home was gone. That there was no going back and that she'd have to go somewhere new. Where in the galaxy could that even be?

"You alright, Mission?" Gaius said, and suddenly it seemed as if every eye in the room was staring at her.

"Yeah, I'm good," but she could feel the well start to form in her throat. "You guys seem to have this." Mission left her weapon on the large food storage container by the door on her way out into the hall.

She wandered back to the starboard dorm, trying to force down the sick feeling with every deep breath. The corridor took her through the ship's garage, where Bastila was resting inside the cockpit of an old speeder that'd been left onboard. Mission slowed as she drifted past, admiring how the Jedi seemed so strong, even while asleep.

It bothered Mission how Davik's words affected her. She was stronger than this, too strong let some old man insult her like he did. Yesterday, she would have traded an arm and a leg to have Davik in the position he was in. The Exchange boss had always tried to make life as miserable as possible for her and the Hidden Beks on Taris, why should he get the last laugh?

Mission decided she would take care of it tomorrow, something to regain the pride she'd surrendered in the cargo hold. For now, though, she was tired and finally felt like she could get some rest without jolting awake.

Returning to the starboard dorm, she found that her bed had been stolen by the young Togruta girl. Poor thing was probably restless, too. Mission wasn't the only one who'd lost her homeworld today.

Returning to the cockpit and resting in the co-pilot's chair was always an option, but she didn't feel like retracing her steps or having another conversation with Carth at the moment. Besides, the Ithorian wasn't snoring quite as loud as before.

Zaalbar was still sprawled over his own bed, and Mission sank to the floor in front of him, resting her head on the Wookie like he was a giant, hairy pillow. She'd slept like this dozens of times before, but it was more comforting now than ever. It was nice that some things in the galaxy were still familiar. Zaalbar sniffed and moved his arm a few times, but it didn't bother Mission. Soon, sleep finally overtook her. Whether she dreamed of Taris, of her brother, her friends, or something else entirely, she couldn't recall. Just the snug feeling of having a friend behind her and the warm embrace of sleep.

"Mission," she hadn't even heard Gaius enter the room, but now he was standing over her, shaking her shoulder.

She rubbed her eyes, annoyed that the first bit of sleep she'd found had been rudely interrupted. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just come with me." Gaius motioned for her to follow him out of the dormitory. Mission wondered what the soldier could possibly need her for. Getting onto her feet wasn't easy, let alone keeping her eyes open for more than a couple seconds at a time. "Trust me, you'll want to be a part of this," Gaius said, grabbing Mission's arm and forcing her to stand.

Still half-dozing, she followed behind the soldier, marching down the same path she'd taken an hour or two earlier. The main hold was exactly as it was when she'd left it, with refugees in every corner and the Iridonian sitting in the doorway leading to the cockpit. Her leg ran into his as she tried to step over him. The Iridonian grumbled something and slid his legs out of the doorway.

Gaius stopped her by the communications room – the only room between the main hold and the cockpit – where T3-M4 was plugged into one of the security consoles. "You almost done, Teethree?" Gaius asked, leaning into the room. The little droid beeped a response that sounded like a 'yes' to Mission, though she had no real way of knowing. "Well, come here for a second. You can get back to this when we're done."

"What're we doing?" Mission wondered aloud, not expecting Gaius to answer.

"This." In the cockpit, Canderous stood in front of the pilot's chair, holding a glass bottle.

Carth was also standing, but he rested his back against the co-pilot's seat, "Mission was the one you wanted to get?" he shot Gaius a questioning look.

"Yes," was Gaius's only response.

Carth paused before shrugging his soldiers. "Alright."

Behind Mission, T3 bumped into the back of her leg. She stepped to the side, and the astromech wheeled its way in between the four of them. She, Carth, Canderous, and Gaius all stood in a circle around the droid.

Carth reached into the co-pilot's chair and picked up four glasses, laying them on T3's flat, circular head. The droid beeped in opposition to being used as a table. "If you don't move, he won't spill," Gaius reassured it, "I promise."

Canderous popped the cork from the bottle and started to pour hefty amounts of purple liquid into each of the cups. Mission swore hers had the most. "This, for all we know," Canderous began, "is the last bottle of Tarisian ale to make its way off Taris."

"Davik had it hidden in the back of the food storage compartment," Gaius explained, "I figured it was appropriate for you to have some."

"Maybe not quite that much," Carth added.

"I can take it, Carth." It wouldn't be Mission's first time drinking the beverage. She'd never had this much at once, though. The appeal of being turned into a slobbering idiot like so many of the Beks – and her brother – would while drinking at swoop races and parties was something that had escaped her.

Each of the men took the glass in front of them, and Mission did the same. They held the glasses up silently for a moment until Carth spoke, "Taris."

Canderous and Gaius nodded in agreement. "Taris," Mission said before the other two repeated the name, as well.

The glasses clinked softly before they all took a large swig. Tarisian ale was deceptively sweet, yet the effects kicked in almost instantaneously. Mission was already feeling lightheaded by the time she sipped a quarter of the drink.

"Thanks, guys," she stared at the drink in her hand, the last of the planet they were leaving behind.

"You don't have to finish it if you don't want to, Mission," Carth said, looking apprehensively at her pour.

"No, I just need to…" she pushed her way past Gaius, towards where Carth stood, "I just need to sit down is all." Miraculously, Mission's glass made it into the co-pilot's chair with her and all its contents. "I'll be fine."

She rested her feet on the ship's console, careful not to press or bump anything. The others drank and talked behind her, but Mission just stared at the swirling field of blue and white outside the _Ebon Hawk's_ viewport. Wherever she was going, whatever awaited her, was fast approaching, and she felt reassured knowing this ship would take her there safely.


	19. The Jedi Council

**Chapter 18: The Jedi Council**

"It seems like a lifetime since I last set foot on Dantooine's surface," Bastila stood next to Gaius in the cockpit. "In truth, it has only been a few months."

"I'm just glad to see a friendly fleet for a change." Outside the viewport, dozens of orange and white capital ships formed one of the largest planetary defensive fleets in Republic space, and by far the largest in the Outer Rim. It was a welcome sight after the menacing blockade of Sith ships they'd seen just before the jump to lightspeed.

"We should feel safe here." Bastila moved to the co-pilot's chair, leaving Gaius to stand alone, between her and Carth.

"It'll be hard to feel safe anywhere after seeing what happened to Taris. It's hard to imagine what the Sith can't do after reducing a planet to rubble like that," the Captian commented, even as they approached the Republic fleet.

Several rapid beeps sounded from the console before anyone responded to him. "Republic ship _Legacy_ to unidentified freighter," a Republic coms officer transmitted to them, "you have an unmatched signature. State your purpose on Dantooine."

"This is Captain Onasi of the Republic Navy on board the _Ebon Hawk_ to the _Legacy_. We have urgent news from Taris and refugees onboard." He glanced towards Bastila, "Requesting permission to land at Jedi Enclave."

There was a long pause before the _Legacy_ responded. "Our records show that Captain Onasi went down with the _Endar Spire_. Can you verify?" Carth sighed and transmitted his officer's I.D., before repeating that the ship was coming from Taris. "Identity confirmed, Captain. Welcome back to Republic space. I'll get a message to Admiral Dodonna that you made it back in one piece."

"Appreciate it, _Legacy_." Carth adjusted the ship's course slightly, diverting towards the coordinates Bastila had provided. "I'll prepare a full report once we've landed at the Jedi's enclave."

"Well, Sir, the Jedi Academy is restricted access. Unless you have specific busine-"

"This is Jedi Commander Bastila Shan aboard the _Ebon Hawk_ ," she cut off the coms officer. "I'm transmitting the access codes for the Academy now." The Jedi input her codes into the command console.

"Destination approved, Commander," the voice replied from the console, almost as soon as the access codes were sent.

"Huh," Carth shrugged, continuing their course downward to the planet.

Apart from their crash landing in the escape pod on Taris, Gaius always enjoyed watching the descent to a planet's surface. The giant globe in front of them grew until he could no longer see the blackness of space around it. Most of the Dantooine's northern continent was visible to the _Ebon Hawk_ as they descended into its atmosphere.

Bright flames streaked across the _Ebon Hawk's_ heat shields, blinding their visuals. Carth switched to flying on instruments. Eventually, they passed through the planet's cloud layer and Dantooine's green fields sprawled to the horizon. The ship flew across the landscape, the planet's hills and everything that dotted them – homesteads, small lakes, herds of Iriaz – rolled past until a gray structure appeared in the distance.

Gaius didn't realize how small the Jedi's enclave was. Compared to most other buildings he'd seen in the area, it was actually quite large, but he'd expected something more grand and magnificent, like the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. Rather, this building was a plain, gray cylinder, half-buried in a hillside. It was only as they approached to land that Gaius could see how the majority of the enclave was roofless and exposed. He decided there must be a good deal more to it hidden underground.

Carth set the _Ebon Hawk_ down on one of the building's two landing pads, which jutted out from the main structure. "I guess this is where we'll be parting ways, Commander."

"Perhaps," Bastila replied, though she seemed distracted. "I shall make my report regarding the events of Taris to the Jedi Council. You two should do the same for your Admiral." She was probably nervous about the meeting with her Masters. Gaius would feel the same if he were meeting with every high-ranking admiral in the Republic Navy at once. She stood and started toward the cockpit's exit. "I suspect that we will all be remaining on Dantooine for some time. I shall return for our debriefing."

Neither Gaius nor the Captain questioned her prediction as she left. As a Jedi, Bastila had the authority to ground them both if she felt it was necessary. "We should help with the passengers," Gaius mentioned.

Carth nodded, "Just give me a minute." He tilted his head back, resting it on the seat. He slumped back, as if laying aside all his anxieties for a moment. Gaius gave a quick salute, a formality he had abandoned during their time on Taris, before making his way to the main hold.

Most of the refugees were already prepared to depart, having spent more than enough time cramped in the crowded freighter. Gaius guessed that few of them were Tarisian natives or residents, and had families and homes to get back to on other planets. He felt somewhat ashamed that he had not gotten to know any of them, save Mission, during their travel.

Some members of the crowd hugged, and others cried as the sound of the loading ramp opening echoed through the hold. Gaius pushed his way through the various alien races, stopping only to acknowledge Mission and Zaalbar, who were standing in the corridor by the starboard dormitory.

As Gaius walked outside, he could hear the refugees behind him, shuffling down the loading ramp. The cool Dantooine breeze was a welcome relief after being stuck in the still air for over a day. There was enough cloud cover in the sky that he didn't have to squint under the bright sun.

The enclave's landing pad was made from smoothed stone, and high, solid walls made of the same material surrounded them on three sides. Bright green moss and vines grew on nearly every flat surface, making the stones appear ancient, as if they had been abandoned and only recently reclaimed. About fifty meters ahead of them, the landing pad sloped down and joined the main structure of the enclave. Bastila had already disappeared into the building, but there were two green-skinned Twi'leks approaching the ship as refugees started offloading.

"«Welcome to our enclave,»" the first Twi'lek proclaimed to the group in Huttese before bowing. He wore the robes of the Jedi, the same brown cloth that the Jedi aboard the _Endar Spire_ had worn. "«I am Deesra Luur Jada. Our Council on Dantooine has instructed me to aid you all in resettlement and relocation. We will provide transportation for those of you with homes offworld. For those of you who were natives of Taris, you have my condolences. My friend, Lur Arka Sulas, will help you find homes – both temporary and permanent – here on Dantooine.»"

The other Twi'lek waived his hand to identify himself as Lur. Unlike Deesra, he wore plainclothes, albeit expensive-looking ones. "Dantooine is very different from Taris, as I am sure you can see. I hope, however, that it can become a home for those of you who wish to stay. We have also identified some families who would be willing to take in children as fosters."

Mission and Zaalbar passed by Gaius as Lur Arka Sulas spoke, and he could see the girl's face sour at the mention of a foster home. "«What does he mean by-»" the Wookie started.

"I won't let them separate us, Z. Don't worry about it," she hugged her companion's side. Gaius would make sure to check in on them before leaving Dantooine. He seriously doubted that she would be able to adapt to life on a planet like this, but it was unlikely she would have much choice.

One by one, the rest of the refugees made their way off the _Ebon Hawk_ and into the open air of Dantooine. The little Togruta girl held the hand of a Duros before running up to Deesra and hugging him. The Jedi seemed taken aback by the action, until Lur hoisted her up into his arms. Gaius watched somberly as the Twi'lek's eyes scanned the crowd. He would have no luck finding the girl's family.

Last off the ship was the preacher, the one who's sermons dealt with the evils of alien existence. He dragged behind the rest of the group, not wanting to be grouped with the other refugees.

"Lucky for them that a Jedi was aboard the ship," a voice behind Gaius startled him. Captain Onasi leaned against the loading ramp, surveying the dispersing crowd. "Without Bastila getting them here, they're just another group of refugees headed to Nar Shaddaa. Now, they're honored guests of the Jedi Order."

"Funny how things like that work out," Gaius turned back to face Carth.

"We should make our report to the Admiral," the Captain revealed his true intent for coming outside.

"No rest for the weary." Gaius started his way back into the _Hawk_.

Carth shook his head and followed him inside. "Not while there's a war going on."

Enjoying one last cool breeze, Gaius marched back into the ship. The air was less stifled inside with the loading ramp open, which he appreciated.

Canderous and T3-M4 were the only ones still waiting in the main hold. The droid was already plugged into the main computer, preparing to begin repairs on the damage suffered by the _Ebon Hawk_ during their escape. Meanwhile, Canderous sat on the central console, polishing the armor he'd taken from Davik after the interrogation.

"So how long before I can take this scrap heap offworld?" the Mandalorian asked as Gaius and Carth entered the room.

"I'm sorry?" Carth asked, almost amused.

Gaius crossed his arms. "What makes you think you'll be the one taking the _Ebon Hawk_?"

Canderous set the engraved, purple armor on the console. "Because, it was my idea to steal the ship, Because I got you into Davik's estate, because I lead us to the droid bay, and because I saved your asses when Calo Nord had you at gunpoint." Off to the side, T3-M4 beeped in disapproval. "You're not here without me, either," Canderous snapped.

Carth shook his head. "We can deal with this later. The Jedi will want to go over it for probes and tracers before letting it leave Dantooine, anyway."

"We'll see about that." The Mandalorian shrugged, contented for the moment. He returned to polishing his newly acquired armor. Gaius considered contesting his commandeering of that, too, but figured he could save that as ammunition for negotiating possession of the ship later. Davik's armor was probably worth more than the ship. They'd have to turn the former owner over to the Jedi before they forgot him in the cargo hold.

Carth led Gaius to the communications room near the cockpit. Save for the soft glow from the various consoles and keypads spread out along the walls, there was little lighting in the room. Carth sat in the room's only chair to place the call in to the Admiral.

The five-tone Republic comms signal repeated several times before someone finally answered. "Admiral Dodonna is currently on another message. Is this urgent, or can I take a message for her?"

"This is Captain Carth Onasi and Ensign Gaius Starr. The Admiral should be expecting our report regarding Taris." Carth leaned onto the console. Whoever was on the other line was taking their time before responding.

"Captain Onasi? The Admiral wishes for you to stay on the line. She'll be with you shortly," the Admiral's assistant echoed through the relay.

Gaius stood beside Carth's chair, waiting in silence for Admiral Forn Dodonna to address them. Neither man spoke a word, not wanting to broadcast an idle conversation into the Admiral's office on accident. Minutes passed slowly, until nearly half an hour of silence had passed. By the end of it, Gaius was pacing circles around the room in anticipation. At long last, a warm voice broke the silence and static.

"This is Admiral Dodonna. I apologize for the wait, Carth." Like the Captain, her voice was calm, yet she spoke with the authority of her rank. "The Jedi Council beat you to me. They and Bastila have briefed me on the events of Taris. This is upsetting news."

Gaius was surprised that the Jedi Council had thought to include the Admiral in their conversation. He knew few things about the Order, but it was common knowledge among the Republic that the Jedi were quite secretive of their internal politics.

Carth's raised eyebrow indicated that he, too, found the Jedi's decision unusual. "It's unfortunately true, Ma'am. Let us know if there's any information that we can provide to bring you fully up to speed."

"Well, I doubt you have any knowledge that the Jedi don't. At this point, the Senate is going to want to spin this into a public relations event. Try and hurt the Sith recruiting efforts. We may need you to testify on Coruscant." The Admiral paused. Carth looked as if he was about to reply, but she cut him off before he began. "Though, I'm sure a report will be sufficient for the moment. I'd like you to stay on Dantooine until further notice."

"Admiral, I will admit that I was hoping to return to the front lines," Carth countered, while attempting to sound deferential. Gaius considered adding in his two credits – that some time on Dantooine would do them both good – but thought better of it.

"I understand that it's hard to keep your feet on the ground, Captain," the Admiral responded. Gaius noted her use of Carth's rank, instead of his name. "Consider this to be some mandatory R-and-R. Take the time to type up a written report. Be as thorough as possible about the Sith's destruction of Taris. The same goes for Ensign Starr. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Carth and Gaius answered, simultaneously.

"Good. Admiral Dodonna over and out." The transmission ended abruptly, the static cutting to silence.

"It figures the senate would want to make what happened on Taris about politics." Gaius rested against the back wall of the room. "Either way, I'd prefer if I could get my R-and-R on a Dremulaen beach, but I suppose this works."

The Captain was less amused. "You do understand that full reports mean _full_ reports, right?"

Gaius hid his sigh from Carth. He'd been dreading having this conversation since the jump to hyperspace. "I understand, Sir. No details left out." Including Sarna's part in their escape.

"I hope so." For a Republic Navyman, few feelings were worse than realizing you had disappointed your ship's Captain. That went double for when the disapproving Captain was Carth Onasi.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" he asked as the Captain stood to leave.

"Starr, you haven't needed that permission since our escape pod went down. If you have something to say, spit it out."

Gaius stood at attention, arranging his words carefully, "I wanted to apologize for leaving you out of the loop on Taris. I should have let you know about my… contact within the Sith. Especially before, well, contacting her."

It was a truthful apology, though the Captain clearly caught on to what Gaius had not said. "That's all?"

"With all due respect, Sir?" Gaius was treading on thin ice. "I stand by my actions with regards to the launch codes. If I hadn't gotten ahold of them, we would've been on Taris when the Sith bombardment began, likely no closer to finding a way off the planet than we were after the crash. Sir."

Captain Onasi gave him a stern look. Gaius knew he was right about them perishing in the Sith attack, that couldn't be disputed. "I understand it was a hard call. I've made hundreds. From my experience, you can't regret them. You make the best decision you can at the time and find a way to live with what happens." Carth's eyes seemed to look straight through him, as if the Captain was addressing something deeper than his mere senses. "And I know we'd still be on Taris if you hadn't gotten those codes. You saved my life, and it wasn't the first time. You also saved Bastila, Mission, and all the others we brought along with us. But that doesn't excuse your actions. You risked those lives in order to save them when it wasn't your call to make. Like I said, I understand you had to make a hard decision, and I can't blame you for it. Just don't expect me to ignore your past the next time I know you have to make a hard call."

It wasn't quite the response Gaius had hoped to hear, though it was far better than he'd feared. "I hope I have the opportunity to earn your trust again in the future, Captain."

Carth nodded. "We'll see."

Returning to the _Hawk's_ main hold, T3 and Canderous were both where they'd been left, but they had been joined by Bastila. She had changed out of the plainclothes she'd worn on Taris. Now, she wore a long, orange and brown robe with a long, flowing tunic cloth in front.

"Back so soon?" Carth asked.

"Only temporarily. I have spoken briefly with the Jedi Council. They have sent me here to retrieve Ensign Starr. The Council has requested an audience with you."

Carth and Gaius exchanged glances. "What would the Jedi Council want with me?"

The Captain appeared even more suspicious. "It's not exactly common for the Council to meet with someone who isn't even a Jedi. What is this about, Bastila?"

"I'm sorry, Carth, but this is a private matter for the Jedi Council." Everything about the statement, even Bastila's body language, was cautious.

The Captain glared at the Jedi, contemplating his response. Gaius stepped in, before he could reply. "It's alright, Captain. I'll go."

The gesture didn't quite placate Carth, but his demeanor did change. "It's just unusual, is all. Starr is under my command, and I don't like the Jedi commandeering him without telling me why."

"I understand, Carth," Bastila replied, "But we must trust in the wisdom of the Council. Particularly in times such as these." It was as diplomatic a response as she could have given.

Carth nodded, though his face remained cross. Bastila motioned for Gaius to follow her out of the ship. She led him down the ramp, through the cool air and across the stone landing pad. The floor sloped downward into the main courtyard of the Jedi's enclave.

"What's this all about, Bastila?" He asked as they passed into the building.

While still marching forward, she answered, "You shall see in a moment." That was hardly a satisfactory answer, but it seemed the Jedi sensed his frustration, "I can say that it is in regard to your… visions on Taris."

In the excitement of their escape, Gaius had pushed Bastila's words to the back of his mind. Now, they resurfaced, almost more vividly than when she'd said them, when she'd told him about being a Jedi Guard. _"_ _You were chosen for your potential ability to feel the force."_

Gaius could hardly think for the rest of the walk to the Council's chambers. His legs carried him forwards, and his eyes made sure to follow Bastila, but his mind was in a fog, unable to focus on anything around him.

Then, he found himself stopping. Before them lay a large, circular room. Unlike the rest of the enclave, this space was elaborately decorated, with swirling patterns along the walls and the floor. It was also enclosed, too, with a full roof hiding it from the eyes of starships passing overhead.

"You may approach," a hoarse voice called them from inside. The two stepped slowly towards the room's center. They were surrounded on all sides by Jedi. Half of them were projected into the chairs via holograms, images sent in from Coruscant or other places across the galaxy. Like Deesra, they wore plainly colored robes. "We welcome you, Gaius Starr."

The speaker was a small, green alien, one of the only Jedi Council members present in-person. His seat was far larger than he required, but the Jedi Master seemed to fill it with his presence. Gaius had never seen one of his species before, with large, pointed ears, wrinkled skin, and a small crop of gray hair.

"I am sure you are confused by our request for your audience," a tan-skinned Twi'lek stated from behind the green Jedi Master's chair. He was one of two Jedi who were not seated. "I am Zhar, the Master of this academy. I understand that you are the soldier who rescued Bastila on Taris. We have been discussing your rather special case."

"Thank you, Master Zhar," Gaius glanced to Bastila, to ensure he was correctly addressing the Jedi. "Why, exactly am I special case?"

Gaius could see the eyes of the flesh-and-blood Jedi in the room shift to each other. "Master Zhar speaks somewhat out of turn," spoke an older Jedi. He looked as if the small, green Master had been transformed into a human, his hair having long ago grayed and thinned. Like his counterpart, he was seated in the row of other Jedi Masters. "We wish to speak of the events on Taris, and how exactly you manag-"

"Master Vrook," the small, green Jedi interrupted, "before we interrogate our guest, perhaps we can provide knowledge to enlighten his ignorance." He turned back towards Gaius. "I am Master Vandar. We have summoned you to our chambers because Bastila has informed us of your strong connection to the Force."

"We are considering you for training," one of the hologram Masters added. He appeared younger than many of the others. His short hair still had its full, brown color.

"It is more than that, however," a woman, also a holoimage, continued the thought. She, too, appeared younger, though her hair was silky white. "We have been told that you received visions of Bastila, and that she could sense your presence through the web of Taris. These are signs of a bond, one made through the force."

Gaius had no idea how to react to all of this information. In less than a minute, he had been informed that he was a candidate for Jedi training and that he and Commander Shan were… bonded. What could that even mean? "I'm afraid I don't understand. I've never heard of a common soldier being picked for Jedi training." Gaius scanned the room to see the Masters' reactions. "Though I would be honored to learn, of course," he hastily added.

"Of course, we would need proof of your strong affinity to the Force before we would even consider accepting you for training." Master Vrook's face was marked by a permanent scowl, and he did not attempt to hide his disapproval for the other Masters' words.

Gaius felt somewhat encouraged when it was Bastila who responded to him, "Surely the entire Council can feel the strength of the Force within him. And I have already related to you the events that took place on Taris."

Master Vrook leaned back in his seat. "Perhaps. But luck appeared to be a factor in much of what occurred on that planet."

"We both know there is no luck. There is only the Force," Master Zhar retorted. The Twi'lek stepped forward, standing in line with the chairs of the other Masters.

"We all feel the power in Bastila's companion," the younger, brown-haired Master spoke. "It is wild and untamed. Now that this power has manifested, we cannot safely ignore it."

They did not seem to have swayed Vrook's opinion, however. "A Jedi's training is long and difficult, even when working with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much harder will it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

"You speak as such only because Master Sunrider is not present for this assembly," another Master responded. She was projected onto the far side of the circle, and Gaius had to twist to see her hologram.

"There are exceptions to every rule." Vrook's gazed circled the room. Gaius felt helpless as these Jedi discussed his fate.

He wasn't even certain that Jedi training was something he wanted, but he needed to have some input in the debate. "I am ready to accept whatever training you can offer," he found the words coming from his mouth without even thinking. "My age has nothing to do with my ability."

Master Vrook scoffed, "Such pride and arrogance!" He stared Gaius down. "Teaching this one would only be setting him further on the path to the dark side."

"And failing to teach him would ensure it," the woman on the edge replied. Gaius felt uncomfortable with this debate unfolding in front of him. Were the participants anyone other than Jedi, he would not have been allowed in the room to hear.

"Master Vash speaks correctly, that there is precedence for such action," Master Vandar broke the momentary silence. "Every day our numbers grow fewer. Those who do not fall in battle learn the ways of the Sith. Even now, our Council sits with empty chairs." Master Vandar motioned towards the ends of the circle, where no holograms projected. There were six empty seats, though they had mentioned that at least one Master was simply absent from the meeting. "It is our failings that lead them on this path."

"Master Vandar, I apologize, but I must go. The battle is drawing near," the younger Master interrupted while standing. His hologram shimmering and rearranging itself in front of his chair.

"Be careful, Master Kavar," Bastila said, quickly.

The Jedi smiled at Bastila. "Aren't I always?" he replied before turning to face the rest of the Council. "Master Vandar, I stand by my earlier statements." The holoimage faded as he stepped away from the communications device.

There was a pause before one of the Masters began to speak again. "I agree with Master Vrook, that training this soldier will be a risk," the silver-haired woman began. Gaius probably imagined it, but he believed he could make out the edges of a smile forming on Vrook's face. "But I believe it would be a greater risk to not train him. Only the watchful eye of a Master could ensure he does not fall to the dark side." Vrook's expression returned to its usual scowl.

"His bond with Bastila should also serve as a tool against such a fate." The fourth, and final of the Jedi actually present spoke. Had his skin been pale, rather than dark, he could have passed for Vrook's twin. Like Master Zhar, he stood beside the other Masters' chairs, rather than sitting in one of them. "It is rare for such a bond through the Force to develop so quickly, though it is far from unheard of."

He stopped when Master Vandar held up a hand to stop him, but continued the thought, "You informed Bastila of reoccurring visions. This was your feeling her presence on Taris, and they ended when you two met. She, too, has stated that she could feel your presence ever since-" the Jedi paused for a moment, as if losing his trail of thought.

"Master Vandar," Vrook called to his peer.

The green Jedi cleared his throat before continuing. "…that she has felt since Taris. Such bonds are more typical of a Master and student, but times of tribulation, such as your escape from the planet, can form such connections between ones strong in the Force like yourselves."

"I don't fully understand," Gaius felt as if it was the only thing he could say, and couldn't remember if he was repeating himself.

"It is something we will teach you, in time. If you accept our training." Master Zhar looked to him, as if expecting an answer.

Gaius's eyes shifted around the room, from Master to Master. Each one appeared to be waiting for his response. They sat, patiently staring at him. Some, such as Vrook and the silver-haired woman, leaned back. Others sat forward, on the edge of their seats. A Kel-Dor Master, whose hologram had been silent through the entire meeting, rested his breathe mask on his folded hands.

Yet, despite the presence of so many Jedi Masters, Gaius found his eyes kept falling on Bastila. Unlike the first time they had spoken – days ago, in the Hidden Beks' base – when she had been so cold to him, she now felt like a warm, comforting presence, particularly compared to the Masters. Perhaps there was some truth to the Jedi's words about a bond between them.

But, was he ready to train as a Jedi? Gaius had heard stories and rumors of what their lives were like. Being a Jedi wasn't just a full-time job, it was their entire lifestyle. What would he be giving up by agreeing to join them? Was it worth it? There was no way to know unless he joined, and then there would be no turning back.

He was prepared to answer, to reject their training and simply return to his service in the Republic navy, when a hand rested on his shoulder. Without saying a word, Gaius knew Bastila was asking him to consider it. To give the Jedi a chance. Would he forgive himself for learning that he could feel the Force and doing nothing about it?

Slowly, Gaius nodded. "I am willing to accept whatever training the Council wishes to offer."


	20. Rest and Relaxation

**Chapter 19: Rest and Relaxation**

"I'm sorry, tell me again what exactly is happening, because I'm finding it a little hard to believe a word of what you just said."

"The Jedi Council have decided to train Ensign Starr as a Jedi. His commission with the Republic Navy is to be terminated, effective immediately."

Carth stood, dumbfounded staring at Bastila across from him. "You're saying this like it was something I should have expected. Soldiers don't just get picked for special Jedi training like it's a promotion. What's going on here?"

Bastila bowed her head and leaned forward over the _Ebon Hawk's_ central console. The ship was as good a place for them to meet as any. "Gaius is connected to the Force in the same way that Jedi are. It was why he was chosen for the Jedi Guard, and why we requested his presence aboard the _Endar Spire_ when the Jedi took command of the ship. After his performance in our escape from Taris, and the heavy losses the Jedi are suffering in the war, the Masters on the Council felt that it was best if-"

"His performance on Taris? You mean stealing the Sith launch codes from a Sith officer? It was probably his 'performance' which made the Sith decide to destroy the planet." Carth took a breath to calm himself. Yelling at Bastila wouldn't accomplish anything. "I admit he's a good soldier, we probably wouldn't be here without him, but how in the galaxy could the Council decide to-"

"Carth, please, you must understand." Bastila walked towards him, around the console. "I have told you all that I have been permitted to say. We must trust in the wisdom of the Jedi Council. The Masters would not take this action if it was not the right one."

Carth sighed. It was hard to trust a decision which he couldn't even begin to comprehend. From the same people who chose not to aid the Republic in the Mandalorian Wars, too.

That Gaius could become a Jedi, or that the Council wanted him to become one, just didn't make any sense. But, there was no use fighting with Bastila over it. She had as much control over the situation as Carth did. Besides, the Jedi had full authority over the military forces in an issue like this. Not even one of the High Admirals could veto them, so why would they care about the opinion of a Captain?

"I guess that's it, then. I'll return to the front lines and he'll stay here." It would be some time before that happened, since Admiral Dodonna wanted him to stay alive long enough to testify in front of the Senate if she felt it was necessary.

Bastila didn't seem to know how to respond to his comment, simply nodding quietly, at first. "The Jedi can offer you quarters in the enclave until you receive orders to go elsewhere. It's the least we can do after all you did to help rescue me. And I'm sure that your wound still has yet to fully heal."

Carth had tried to forget about the blast that merc had given him below the swoop track on Taris. It hadn't been difficult to ignore it during their escape, with the adrenaline pushing him forward, but there were no such distractions on Dantooine. "Thank you for being the one to tell me about this, Bastila. I'll probably be grounded for a while, so any place you can put me will do." His stomach growled. "Right now, though, I'd be just as grateful for a meal that isn't prepared by a ship's food synthesizer."

Unfortunately, after leading him to the enclave's refectory in the lower levels of the building, Bastila left Carth to eat his meal alone. He finished his iriaz steak and the homegrown vegetables while quietly observing the twenty or so Jedi in the hall. Many of them ate as he did, sitting silently by themselves. There were some who appeared to be eating in groups of two or three, but their interactions with each other were minimal while they ate.

After his meal, Carth wandered the halls of the enclave's lower level for about an hour, attempting to look as if he was moving somewhere with a purpose, not simply exploring his new home for the indefinite future.

Carth spent the next several days in much the same manner. Once he had completed his report for the Admiral and had written up official warrants for Davik Kang's arrest and the _Ebon Hawk's_ confiscation, Carth found that there was very little for him to do on Dantooine. He could access the HoloNet from his room, but nearly every story was about the war. The journalists rarely told him something he didn't already know, and anything new that they did report was either a recent Republic retreat or Sith victory. Carth swore watching the coverage slowed his blaster wound from healing. It might also have been his bad habit of scratching the bandages beneath the plainclothes the Jedi had provided.

He checked in a Mission during this time, as well. The Jedi, Deesra, had left her in the care of a local family. They'd even been nice enough to give Zaalbar a place to stay. Carth doubted that either of them would adapt well to farm life on a quiet planet like Dantooine. Deesra told him that Lur Arka Sulas, a member of the local government who was helping with the Tarisian refugees, had hired someone to find her brother, Griff, since he was her only known remaining family. From what Carth had gleaned from Mission on Taris, though, it was highly doubtful they'd be able to find someone like him. Griff was a career drifter. Still, it was good to know that Mission and her Wookie companion had warm meals and real beds for a change.

Occasionally while wandering the enclave, Carth tried to find Gaius or Bastila and see what exactly the Ensign's Jedi training involved. For the first week or so, watching him was about as interesting as calculating hyperspace routes between core worlds. In the first few days on Dantooine, alone, Gaius spent hours poring over notes and books, learning about the history of the Jedi and talking about their code. The Twi'lek Jedi Master who was mentoring him, Zhar, kept telling Carth that he could observe, but he was not to interrupt Gaius's training. The librarian, Dorak, was no better. Worse than being stuck in the Jedi's enclave with no end to his 'rest and relaxation' in sight, was being treated like a nuisance.

Once he started to feel better, a little more than a week after they'd arrived, Carth took the opportunity to jog the grounds surrounding the enclave. The cool air rushing past his face and the soft grass his feet tread over reminded him of his runs on Telos with Morgana. She'd always been faster than he was, and pushed him when they ran together. He'd joke with her that he became a pilot so he wouldn't have to worry about running. If not for his exhaustion from the exercise, the memories of his wife would have been far more difficult to push aside.

"You're not going to get far, running in circles like that." Carth spun around. He'd taken a short break partway through his jog, when the old man stopped him.

"What do you mean?" he asked

The man had a kindly smile and was seated on a flat, stone fixture. "Running circles around the enclave. You're not going to get anywhere if you just keep going around it." He laughed at his joke. "I suppose the humor of an old Jedi isn't what you came outside for."

Carth tried to catch his breath. His head was cloudy from the long run. "No, I appreciate someone to talk with. It's a nice change from the norm." He reached out a hand, "Captain Carth Onasi, Republic Navy."

The Jedi shook his outstretched hand, "My name's Nemo. Just Nemo." He welcomed Carth to sit on the stone with him. It was shaped like a natural bench, though Carth suspected it was carved, seeing as a number of other similarly shaped rocks were placed around the enclave.

"It's a pleasure," Carth took the excuse to cut his run short and took a seat next to the old man.

"The pleasure is all mine. Not too often we have Republic Captains staying with us Jedi. I've seen you wandering around before, and I was hoping to get the chance to speak with you…" Nemo went on to ask Carth about his assignments. If he'd been in certain battles, if he'd met specific Jedi during the war. Then he started asking about where Carth was from.

The entire time, Nemo was more courteous and polite than any Jedi Carth had met previously. He responded with nods and thoughtful replies, even when it was clear Carth was purposefully abbreviating his answers.

Finally, Carth found an opening to ask a question of the Jedi. "What about you, Nemo? How long have you been on Dantooine?"

The man chuckled to himself, "I apologize for all the questions. I tend to get carried away with things. As for me, I'm flattered that you would want to know anything about an old Jedi like myself. I've served the council on Dantooine for many, many years, and have seen many apprentices pass through this enclave."

"You were around for the Exar Kun War, then?" It was an odd question to follow up with, but the Jedi had asked Carth so many questions about his time in this war and the last one that it seemed appropriate.

Nemo paused, appearing deep in thought, before answering. "Things were different back then for the Jedi." He stared past Carth, at some unknown spot on the horizon. "We were more spread out, and the rules of the Order hadn't quite caught on with everyone. But, I suppose that didn't answer your question. The simple response is that, yes, I was a younger Jedi back then, though not on Dantooine. For a time, I was studying in the Jedi's library on Ossus. But, that's ancient history now, and you can trust me when I say that it's not worth your time to hear."

Carth considered pressing the issue, reassuring the Jedi that it was something he would like to hear, but decided to take the hint. If he could cut answers about his past short, so could the Jedi. Carth stood to finish his jog, "Thank you for the talk, Nemo, and the excuse to take a break from my run. I'm sure you'll know where to find me if you ever feel like telling me about that library."

"Before you go," the Jedi stopped him, "I should reveal my true motives for this chat. You see, for a while we had some Aratech traders staying and negotiating a contract with the Jedi Order here. They were brusque fellows, but I quite enjoyed some early morning games of pazaak while they were residing with us. Since their contract was signed, however, I have been looking for a new partner to play with. Now, I will warn you in all fairness, that I am rather accomplished. A Jedi Master can't go losing card games to soldiers."

Carth laughed and shook his head at the humor of the request. "I'm more of a dejarik man, myself, but if it gets me out of my room in the morning, I'd be glad to join you."

Nemo smiled. "Maybe we can find a dejarik board once you get tired of losing."

The following morning, as promised, Nemo found Carth in the refractory for breakfast, pazaak decks already prepared for their game. Also as promised, the Jedi was quite good at the sport, wiping Carth clean of the credits he'd set aside for the morning.

They met every morning after that for a match. Carth brought along ten or fifteen credits with him, and occasionally even left the table with more. The old Jedi was always friendly with him, chatting throughout their games. Carth partially suspected Nemo was trying to distract him, but figured that a Jedi Master would have better tricks up his sleeve than that.

"I don't suppose you want me to find that dejarik board now?" Nemo asked after he'd won a particularly one-sided match. Carth laughed and promised to repay the favor the following morning.

Nearly two weeks after his first pazaak game with Nemo, Carth finished a run by collapsing on a grassy knoll just beyond the enclave's entrance, where he had been ending his daily jogs lately. He gazed skyward, trying to appreciate his time away from the war. It was much harder to miss the front lines lying here.

His breathe was heavy from pushing himself harder than he had been. The blaster wounds in his chest had mostly healed, so Carth was taking the opportunity to get back in duty-ready shape. He hoped to be fully prepared to return to active service once his mandatory r-and-r was through. Still, he had no hint as to when that would be, as Admiral Dodonna was remarkably difficult to get in touch with. Carth's only contact with her since his initial report with Gaius had been through her assistant, a mousy, young lieutenant who simply informed Carth that the Admiral would contact him when he was needed.

It was around this time that observing Gaius's trainings became far more interest. Carth had overheard several other Jedi mentioning Gaius, and how quickly he was progressing in his training for an initiate. Once they realized Carth was listening in, however, they quickly fell quiet. He wasn't sure why it was a topic worth cutting him out of, yet was glad to have something more interesting to watch than a lecture on the ancient history of the Jedi. For the first time, the Ensign was sparring with training sabers. Carth watched as the soldier swung the weapon around, trying to get a feel for something so awkwardly balanced. It reminded him of close-combat training he'd been through at the academy, where the cadets sparred with force pikes and low-energy stun sticks.

On a particularly warm day, Gaius and Bastila fenced by the large fountain in the upper level of the enclave. Carth sat on the fountain's edge, dipping his hands into the water to cool himself off from the heat pouring through the open roof. The patterns created by their two yellow beams was memorizing as they attacked and parried in turn. Each time Gaius took a hit, Bastila would clearly explain to him exactly why his technique had allowed her to penetrate his defense. Towards the end of the hour, when Gaius finally landed a blow on Bastila with his saber, he jokingly did the same. When they returned to the duel Bastila had landed three hits on Gaius in as many seconds.

"Have you ever used one before?" a voice beside Carth asked. He turned to see a Jedi seated next to him, unsure of when she slipped next to him. She had dark skin and nearly solid blue eyes. Carth had served with a Tholothian woman – Adilla, he believed her name was – on Althir, during the Mandalorian Wars. He remembered a particular incident when his executive officer had told her to remove the headdress, because he was worried that the long white tendrils would give them away in the dark urban centers. Oddly enough, Carth couldn't remember if she'd survived Althir. The X.O. didn't. In any event, the woman before Carth wore the same headdress, with half a dozen fleshy, white tendrils resting just around her shoulders. He hadn't noticed her around the enclave before.

"Have I ever used a lightsaber?" Carth repeated her question to regain his focus. "I'm just a common soldier, ma'am, so I can't say that I have."

"What is your name, common soldier?" she asked. The Jedi had the same straightforward, patronizing tone that most of the others in the enclave had taken with him. Nemo, excluded, of course.

"I'm Captain Carth Onasi. Republic Navy," he replied with the same answer he gave every Jedi. As he did so, Carth allowed his gaze to wander back to Gaius and Bastila's sparring.

"You are the soldier who is staying in our enclave. I am Quatra," the Jedi replied, seeming to have already known who he was before she asked. "You will come with me."

"To where?" he asked, turning away from the spar and looking the Jedi in her squarely in her large eyes.

"This way. Now." Quatra stood and walked towards a hallway on the other side of the fountain.

When he interacted with some Jedi, Carth felt like little more than a prop, someone they could direct around at will without any concern. Still, the Jedi technically outranked him, and 'Commander' was as appropriate a title as 'Master.' Quatra gave him a direct order to follow, so he did.

She led him across the upper level of the enclave, and they quickly arrived in a matted room that looked like some sort of gym, though there was no equipment for exercising with. The only person in the room was another Jedi, who was kneeling, probably in meditation, on the far end of the mat. From her feline features and pointed ears, she appeared to be a Cathar. It was a surprise to see one of her species here. Carth thought most of her kind had been wiped out by the Mandalorians.

"Juhani, rise," Master Quatra ordered, and the Cathar obeyed. It was nice to know that Carth wasn't the only one the Jedi treated like that. From beneath her robe, Quatra tossed a small, metal cylinder to Juhani. The Cathar Jedi snatched the training saber out of the air and activated it, sweeping the yellow light around her.

Carth was so caught off guard by her ease at handling the weapon that he almost didn't notice Quatra throwing another one his way. The saber bobbled in his hands several times before he managed to get a firm grip on it. What had this Jedi recruited him for?

Quatra seemed to ignore Carth, focusing exclusively on the other Jedi. That was typical of Carth's experience in the enclave, but the training saber was not. "Juhani," Quatra addressed her, "Win."

"Wait, what?" Carth stammered, but neither of them responded. Instead, the Cathar leapt towards him with her training blade held forward, a yellow beam sweeping across the room. Carth barely had time to figure out which button turned the weapon on before she was standing over him, swinging the saber at his chest, right over his almost-healed blaster wound.

Miraculously, Carth's weapon activated just in time to block Juhani's swing. It was a reflex to hold the weapon there, not something he had planned. The Jedi was unfazed, and moved to strike again.

The spar lasted seconds, though it felt far longer to Carth. Fencing with force pikes against navy cadets was one thing, but using a weapon he'd never held before against a Jedi was just shy of humiliating.

After Carth blocked her first strike, Juhani scored hits on both his legs and across his chest in one, swift motion. Thankfully, she missed his wound, but the blade still stung wherever it made contact with his body.

"Again," Quatra shouted from across the matted floor. Carth groaned as Juhani charged him once more. Her first blow struck his shoulder, and though he managed to block her second strike, the following three each found their mark on his body. Quatra had them repeat the exercise several more times. Each iteration of the duel ended with Carth managing to block at most one of Juhani's swings, and the rest finding their mark. In the penultimate spar, her yellow blade hit each of his limbs in turn, and ended with a blow over his cheek. He barely managed to rub the numbness out of his face off before the final fight began.

Even as she critiqued Juhani from across the room, Quatra seemed to ignore Carth's presence entirely. "Padawan, what was my sole instruction?" she asked at the end of their final duel.

"To win," Juhani responded. She deactivated the training saber and turned to face the Tholothian, returning to her kneeling position. Carth briefly considered taking a swing at her to repay all the hits she scored, but thought better of it. "And I won, Master Quatra." The Cathar spoke with a thick accent. It sounded vaguely familiar to Carth, though he couldn't quite place where he would have heard it before.

"You did win, Juhani." Quatra moved from her stern stance across the room and slowly approached them. "But you far surpassed what I asked of you. My solitary instruction was to win. Yet you butchered your opponent."

Now that was a little offensive. "I don't know if I'd say she butcher-" Quatra raised a hand, signaling for Carth's silence.

"It should have been obvious from before the spar began that your opponent was unarmed."

Juhani's head, previously bowed, snapped upward. "He was not unarmed, you gave him the saber yourself."

"He held a weapon, true, yet he posed no threat." Carth would have interrupted the Jedi, again, if she was not still holding a hand in his direction. "Did you ever have doubt of your victory? Did you ever believe you were in danger?" Juhani started to answer, but Quatra cut her off, "You refuse to center yourself before using your blade. Your failure opens your mind to emotions during a duel. Your anger and fear drive your lightsaber when this happens, and instead of seeing that you could easily and quickly win with a single strike on an opponent, you fight as fiercely as you can. This is how you fought in your first duel under my tutelage, and it is still how you fight today. If you had taken the time to clear your mind, to see your opponent for what he truly was, one who held a weapon he could not wield. You would have known that your attack was unnecessary and excessive. I have tried to teach you restraint, Juhani, but you must listen in order to learn."

"I…" At first, Juhani sounded like she was ready to argue with the Master, but seemed to change her mind at the last moment. "I will reflect on your words, Master Quatra."

"As ever, that is all I ask, padawan." Quatra placed a hand on her student before turning her attention to Carth for the first time since tossing him the training saber. "That will be all, Captain."

Not even a 'thank you' for his time.

As the two Jedi exited the room, hooking Juhani's training saber onto the wall, a familiar voice mocked Carth from behind. "No wonder the Republic's losing this war if that's how it's soldiers fight."

"Well, what does that say about the Mandalorians, then?" Carth replied.

"Point taken. Still, it doesn't seem like you'd be much use one-on-one when the other person has a lightsaber."

"The navy handbook actually has instructions on what to do if you're fighting a Dark Jedi."

"Really? What's it say?"

"Don't."

Canderous laughed. It was a morbid Republic joke which had made its way around the military long before Carth ever joined.

"Is this what you've been doing with your downtime? Getting your ass kicked?" The Mandalorian asked.

"Yeah, but mostly in pazaak."

"You've got to have a pretty special line of thinking to play card games with a Jedi."

"It's the only way I can get one of them to sit down and have a conversation. Speaking of which, where have you been the past few weeks?"

Canderous shrugged, "I've been around. Looking to see if anyone on this wasteland of a planet had work for a mercenary."

Carth wasn't sure what kind of work a bunch of farmers would have for a Mandalorian. He was a little afraid to ask, but did so, anyway. "Any luck?"

"As a matter of fact, I had two separate people try to hire me for a hit job. One of 'em was getting worked over by his business partner, and wanted him gone. The other asked me to kill someone who was sleeping with his wife. Turns out, both men were trying to hire me to take out the same guy. I didn't think this dirtball was big enough for an underhanded gravel maggot like that."

"You didn't take the jobs, did you?" Carth probed, somewhat hesitantly.

"I'm no one's hitman. If I'm taking a job, there's going to be some challenge to it, not just shooting someone out in a field while his back is turned." Canderous crossed his arms. "I did find another bounty, though. A little bit of a hunting job for some of the locals."

Carth raised an eyebrow. Something about it didn't sit right. "Hunting? You're taking assassination missions against iriaz, then?"

The Mandalorian smirked in response. "Something like that." He walked to the doorway Quatra and Juhani had left through and lifted the training saber off the wall rung. Canderous examined the metal rod before activating it. His eyes followed the tip of the beam as it fully extended. Carth watched as he twirled the weapon in his hand several times, before shutting it off. "You can join tomorrow if you want."

"On your hunting trip? You strike me as someone who would prefer to work alone."

"Normally. But I don't pass up the opportunity to take someone along who can serve as a distraction while I do the real work."

Carth knew Canderous was planning on hunting something other than iriaz or kath hounds, and he was more than a little curious as to what it was. "What's the real job?"

"Come with me and find out. I'll be outside the enclave at sunrise, so tell your Jedi friend that you'll be missing that pazaak game." Canderous placed the training saber back on the wall rung. "Once the sun's up, I'm gone, so don't be late," the Mandalorian shouted back as he left.

Carth shook his head. Admittedly, he was tempted to follow Canderous, if only to find out who he was 'hunting.' Not to mention, it would be an excuse to get away from the enclave for a couple days.

Returning past the fountain, Carth saw that Bastila and Gaius had concluded their sparring. Overhead, the sky was beginning to change color, so they'd probably finished for the evening. He worked his way to the lower level of the enclave, where the dormitory was located.

"Carth," he heard Bastila call behind him in the lower hallway. For not having a real conversation with anyone but Nemo the past few days, it seemed everyone was looking for him this evening.

"Is something wrong?" Carth turned to face the Jedi.

Bastila briskly approached him from down the corridor. She had the same, purposeful march in her step during a casual conversation as she did during their escape from Taris. "Everything is quite fine, Carth. I know that you have been observing Gaius these past few weeks, and I simply wished to inform you that he and Master Zhar will be away from the enclave beginning tomorrow."

Carth nodded, "Thanks for letting me know, Bastila. I'm assuming you can't tell me where they're going."

Bastila had the same look on her face as when she'd informed Carth that Gaius would be joining the Jedi nearly a month ago. "I'm afraid you are correct." Carth disliked the Jedi keeping secrets from him, but he no longer had jurisdiction to demand to know the whereabouts of Ensign Starr. Or Master Starr, however the Jedi's titles worked. "I saw that Master Quatra used you in one of her trainings today."

Carth almost laughed, "I can't say that I appreciated being a practice dummy for her padawan."

Bastila chuckled, though it sounded restrained, as if she'd calculated and decided the appropriate amount of laughter to respond with. "Master Quatra takes on rather difficult students, and is known for using rather unorthodox training methods them."

"To me, just about everything in this building is unorthodox, so I'll take you at your word."

"I am sure you fared better than some of those she has used to train against her students in the past." She paused, as if unsure of what to say next. "Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening," she said, somewhat awkwardly, before turning on her heel, causing the long tunic on her robe to flair out. She proceeded back the way she came without another word.

Carth sighed and returned to his room. He considered going back out for the day's final meal, but he was more tired than hungry at the moment.

Changing into less sweat-soaked plainclothes, Carth flipped on the HoloNet, changing between several stories until he found the most recent one with updates from the front. The hologram of a young woman began to play near the center of the room. "-ivilians were evacuated from the city to escape the encroaching Sith presence. More than thirty of the one hundred and twenty-two transport ships were intercepted by Sith fighters. Only seven of those ships successfully evaded capture or destruction, meeting with the rest of the fleet escaping the Sith bombardment. Many of those fleeing the planet were already refugees, making their way into the mid rim after attacks on their homeworlds in the outer rim. Video footage from the Sith invasion of Kalkovak was made available to the HoloNet by-"

Carth switched off the holoimage nearly as soon as a fresh shirt was over his head. News about which fronts the Sith were invading was one thing, and kept him motivated to return to the front lines. But tragedies like these were a whole other business. He had more than enough motivation to keep resisting the Sith, even before what happened Taris.

Carth sat on the edge of his bed, deciding whether to attend dinner or turn in for the night. He tried to think of some plans for the following day, but his schedule was as empty as it ever was on Dantooine. Aside from his morning game with Nemo and his daily jog, there was simply nothing on this planet to keep him occupied. More so now that Starr was going to be away for his Jedi training. With a heavy groan, Carth switched off the lights to the room, deciding to get some rest and forgo his final meal. It would be an early morning if he wanted to catch Canderous before he left.


	21. Apprentice

**Author's Note: between some major life changes (graduation, new job, new apartment, etc.), and deciding to rewrite this entire chapter from scratch (my original draft focused a bit too much on Gaius's training and less on characters, so it read like a self-insert fic I would've written when I was 14), it's taken a long time to get this chapter up. This has been a difficult chapter to write for a number of reasons, but I think it's important to get a day-in-the-life take on Gaius's training before he goes off to do bigger and better things.**

 **Chapter 20: Apprentice**

"Patience, apprentice." Patience. If there was one thing hindering Gaius's training, that was it. For a fledgling Jedi, he had advanced so far in so little time that Master Zhar's instructions to hold back were difficult not to ignore.

The Twi'lek sat across from Gaius in the enclave's meditation chamber. A hot, windowless room where the air grew thicker than molasses. The chamber's walls absorbed the beating heat from the Dantooine sun until the very act of breathing became laborious work. It was in here that Gaius had started his day. As typical, his morning meal had to be skipped so he would start on time. Occasionally, he managed to awaken before dawn to scarf down a small breakfast before Master Zhar or Bastila found him to begin his studies, but he'd had no such luck today.

Though Bastila had yet to join them in meditation this morning, she was rarely far from Gaius when he wandered the halls of the Jedi Enclave. As much as Gaius disliked someone younger than himself instructing him – or, more often, criticizing him – he appreciated her companionship. Few Jedi approached Gaius during his studies in the enclave the past few weeks, and those who did seemed incapable of holding a conversation.

Gaius suspected that they either took issue with his advanced age, or had no way of relating to him because of it. Most Jedi entered the Order so young that they had no memories from their lives before they joined. The few who had joined later in life only hinted at this fact. Bastila had mentioned her father once in passing, and during a sparring match, the Cathar Padawan, Juhani, mentioned fleeing the Mandalorian Wars as a child.

"You are restless, apprentice Starr." Zhar's eyes remained shut when he spoke, yet undoubtedly, he knew that Gaius's own eyes were open.

"I apologize, Master. My thoughts wander this morning." It was a phrase Gaius had overhead a Padawan use some days previous. There was a poetry to the way Jedi talked, and he attempted to at least emulate their speech when among the Masters, particularly Zhar. It was a front he instantly abandoned when alone with Bastila or Carth, though he had not seen much of the Captain around the enclave lately.

"There is no need to apologize. Meditation cannot be planned, you must find your center at your own pace." That was one of Zhar's favorite sayings, and Gaius had heard it at least once every morning, often more. It was the reason Zhar forbid any means of timekeeping within the chamber. "Meditation teaches one to channel the power of the Force. To truly understand the way of the Jedi, you must open your mind to its knowledge."

Gaius grimaced and redoubled his efforts to ease his mind, as absurd as the task sounded. Despite his progress, meditation still did not come easy to him. 'Letting go of oneself and becoming one with the Force' was easier said than done. Just as Gaius was beginning to find success, however, the chamber doors slid open, startling him into complete consciousness. Zhar did not stir as Bastila entered.

The Force poured through the room with her, swirling from wall to wall, like a gale encircling them with its winds. Gaius was always closest to its energy around Bastila, hesitantly increasing his belief in their "bond," as the Masters referred to it. He was admittedly skeptical of the Council's words that first day in the enclave, yet as he grew closer to the Force, the more he could feel his connection to it strengthen in Bastila's presence.

Wordlessly, the young Jedi joined their meditation, giving Gaius a slight nod before closing her eyes. The two had never spoken aloud of their bond, but he knew that Bastila could sense the connection, as well.

It was impossible to judge how long they remained in the chamber after she arrived. As Zhar instructed him, Gaius waited for the meditative state to come naturally. Even with his eyes closed and across the room, he could practically feel Jedi Master's stillness, setting the example for Gaius to follow. The harder he tried, however, the more difficult the task became.

Bastila's mind did not project the same aura of peacefullness. Despite his crude understanding of such things, Gaius could still sense the storm she created around her in the Force. From rumors around the enclave, he had learned what happened on board the _Winged Victory_ , when Bastila defeated Revan, barely a knight and the only survivor of her mission aboard the former Sith flagship. Lesser experiences had disturbed hardened soldiers for life. It was no wonder the young woman had trouble finding her own inner peace.

Gaius found it difficult to avoid reflecting on such things, yet in the quiet of the meditation chamber, such thoughts were difficult to avoid. As his thoughts turned to Bastila, Gaius could feel the storm moving about himself. Though the physical air in the room sat stagnant, the Force churned about them like a whirlwind. Gaius sought out its eye, the one vestige of peace in its chaos. He found himself sitting with Bastila, taking shelter near her, within the calmness of its center. Its winds drifted outward, beyond the small chamber, filling the enclave and stretching across the plains of Dantooine. Gaius could almost feel the warmth from the planet's sun. The room and the world beyond it froze in time for a moment as he and Bastila shared in the experience, reaching out of the small chamber through the Force.

Their eyes opened. Gaius could not recall how long it had been since his last breath of the chamber's stale air.

The first thing he noticed was the dampness in his shirt. Beads of sweat formed along his body, soaking into his plainclothes and weighing it down in the heat. Gaius stood slowly, easing his mind back into conscious thought. The Force gale still swirled about the room, but its winds now sounded more like a whistle in the breeze than the thunder of a hurricane.

Bastila mimicked his movements, following him to the meditation chamber's door. The Force flowed with her and out into the hall as they withdrew from the room. Master Zhar remained behind with his thoughts. He was always the last to leave, often skipping the afternoon meal to make up for the hours lost in meditation.

"Did you feel it as I did?" Bastila spoke softly, though there was an unmistakable enthusiasm in her voice.

Gaius was unsure how to answer. "The Force was… stronger once you joined us." He did not mention their shared bond by name. They had yet to discuss its nature in private. Gaius could not help but infer that its existence was a source of shame for Bastila. The Jedi who killed Revan was attached, in the loosest of terms, to an apprentice she'd only just met. "It is frustrating to be alone with Zhar, when I can't balance, or center, or focus… whatever you'd call it. Meditating is just easier with you."

To his surprise Bastila reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. "I know you are eager to press onward, but relying on my strength, my connection to the Force, is only a crutch. You will develop your own means of touching the Force in time."

On occasion, the young Jedi Knight saw right through him. Gaius smiled, "There's a war going on, Bastila."

"You will return to fight for the Republic when you are more fully prepared. After only weeks, you have-"

"It's not me," Gaius interrupted. In truth, he had little desire to return to the front anytime soon. Not after the disaster aboard the _Endar Spire_ that landed them on Taris. On occasion, he forgot how many good men and women died aboard that ship and on the planet below. Trask, Koy, friends and comrades. "I'm keeping you here. The Republic needs its hero, and you're stuck on Dantooine as long as I am."

Bastila bit her lip. Her pazaak face was wanting, though Gaius was unsure what emotion she was trying to hide. Pride at his admiration for her? Embarrassment? Maybe frustration that his words were true.

"I'm grateful that you hold me in such high regard," she started. Bastila backed away slightly, though it seemed a more unconscious movement than an intended one. "But do believe me when I say that your training here is important. I would not remain on Dantooine if it was not."

Gaius forced a smile. "Thank you, Bastila." He wasn't sure if there was a better response. They stood awkwardly for a moment, until the cool air of the hall began to drag down the sweat-soaked plainclothes on Gaius, sticking to his skin as he moved. "For now," he remarked, "I should make a visit to the 'fresher for a shower."

Bastila tugged at her own shirt in response. "I believe it would be best if I join you in that regard."

Gaius could feel his eyebrow raise before he even consciously moved the muscle. "I welcome the company." He suppressed a laugh, trying to maintain a straight face and watch amusedly as Bastila's expression soured. Her support had been touching, but it was rare Gaius passed on an opportunity to fluster her.

"You know perfectly well that I did not mean- that I was not implying that we-" It was cute how she reacted to light comments.

"It was a joke, Bastila."

His companion paused, as if swallowing the next word before it could pass her lips. "Yes. Of course. I shall meet you after your meal."

It hadn't taken Gaius more than a couple of days living in the enclave before he realized how easily Bastila became flummoxed by casual jokes at her expense. She might be a full-fledged Jedi Knight, but she was still young, proud, and often overeager, all traits which made her easily embarrassed when subverted.

They bowed politely to each other before parting ways. Unlike other gestures among the Jedi, this was a practice that had already become second nature to Gaius, even after such short a time.

After gather a change of plainclothes, Gaius disrobed quietly in the men's refresher. The sweaty clothes peeled off his body. Fresh, running water from the shower was a welcome relief. These were a vast improvement over the sonics on the _Endar Spire_. He remained longer than in needed to, though Gaius knew he had further studies that day.

With the water coursing over him, Gaius's mind revisited that moment in the Jedi Council's chambers, when he was asked to join the Order, and he questioned if his final decision had been the right one. Becoming a Jedi had been such a curious, unknown proposition when he was standing in front of the Council, Bastila at his side. More than once since starting his training, Gaius found himself wondering why he had made the decision to join the Order.

In the end, he never truly found a satisfying answer for himself. It was simply a choice he'd felt was necessary. And what was the alternative? Return to the war as an ensign, maybe get a promotion or two for his actions on Taris. If he wasn't court martialed for them. Yet, the lack of better options wasn't exactly the most comforting thought for Gaius.

He took the afternoon meal alone, as was somewhat normal. Occasionally, Bastila or Master Zhar would join him for the meal, but most Jedi preferred to eat in silence and reflection. It was a culture Gaius was still not adapted to, having eaten most of his meals in raucous mess halls with scores of hungry soldiers.

It was odd. Before coming to Dantooine, Gaius had always viewed the rare moment alone as something precious. In the enclave, however, the loneliness felt more like rejection. The few times he managed to hold down another Jedi long enough to converse, there was always some measure of animosity towards him. It was never direct, though, it always took the form of some correction or criticism for his manner or dress. It was possible they disliked him for joining at such an advanced age, or for the treatment he was receiving due to his bond with Bastila. No other mere apprentice was trained personally by the Master of the enclave. Gaius pushed the thoughts from his mind as he finished his stew.

Deliberately, Gaius marched to the back of the refectory and washed his bowl in the large sink along the wall, scraping bits of meat and vegetables from the Jedis' garden into the basin. Leaving his bowl behind, Gaius then walked quietly to the enclave's archives, where Master Dorak awaited him. Old, but strongly built, the chronicler held regular meetings with Gaius. He had grown quite fond of the older Master, who was less demanding than Zhar and less harsh than Vrook.

"Good afternoon, apprentice," he greeted, gesturing Gaius towards an empty table. "I trust you have read the most recent _Histories_ I have loaned you."

"Of course, Master." Gaius had skimmed them. The _Histories of the Jedi_ could, at times, grow quite dull, taking extended tangents to list annual initiates and deaths of the order in painstaking detail. When it wasn't obituaries, they took extensive paragraphs to describe minor conflicts which affected individual continents on individual planets in which an individual Jedi was involved. The selections had become more bearable as they approached recent history, however, and the current assignment had discussed the Exar Kun War, which had immediately preceded the Mandalorian Wars, and its effect on the Order in their aftermath.

"Do you have any thoughts or reflections on the subject matter?" Master Dorak began every literary discussion with the open-ended question.

Gaius had already considered a few stock answers before he'd arrived, knowing it would be asked of him. "I was surprised to find how recent the Jedi's move to Coruscant was; that the Temple was only finished while Nomi Sunrider was still Grand Master of the Order. I had thought the Temple was an ancient structure."

Dorak chuckled, "So do all the young." Gaius was hardly young by the Jedi's standards, though it was an understandable description coming from the older Jedi. "But, perhaps you have some more insightful thoughts than mere surprise that I was a young man when construction on the Jedi Temple was completed."

Now it was Gaius's turn to laugh. "I do have more thoughts, Master, though none as shocking." He waited until both he and the chronicler had recomposed themselves before beginning. "Correct me if I am wrong," he started, "but I could not help but notice similarities between Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma betraying the Jedi and the war of today, started by Revan and Malak turning on the Order. All four were well-renowned Jedi before deciding that they did not agree with the Jedi, and inevitably fell to the dark side and turned on the Republic when they strayed from their teachings."

Dorak's head bobbed up and down as Gaius spoke. He wasn't sure the chronicler was truly listening until he replied, "It is always a dark day when a pupil betrays his Master. It is a pattern that has followed the Jedi, not just through these last two conflicts, but through the millennia before." He paused. Master Dorak's eyes squinted as he stared at Gaius, as if trying to read his thoughts. Gaius felt reassured when the old chronicler eased and rested his back before continuing his speech. "One of the most important lessons of the Jedi, and one I have tried to convey to you over these past weeks through your readings and our discussions, is the importance of following the Jedi Code. Those former Jedi like Revan and Malak, Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma before them, Ajunta Pall and the exiles of the Order before them, and the countless other fallen Knights who followed all those men; they fell because they lost sight of their teachings." Dorak's voice normally raised when he got excited about the subject matter, but it was different this time, more focused towards than his own enthusiasm. "They shunned the wisdom of the Jedi and embraced their own power, ultimately becoming weaker for it."

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge," the hoarse voice of Master Vrook chanted from behind, growing closer with each verse. "There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Each of these passages flows through the other as the Force flows through all living things. To lose sight of one is to lose sight of them all." Vrook stood over Gaius, staring at him as Master Dorak had, though his sharp eyes accused, rather than consoled. "Those Jedi who fall, who corrupt themselves, never believe they are shunning the entirety of their teachings. Just one or two compromises. Yet one compromise leads to another, and soon a fallen Jedi believes more in death than in the Force, twisting their teachings into something more desirable. They believe their own knowledge is greater than the combined knowledge of the Jedi dating back millennia. Do you understand their failing?" Master Vrook leaned over the table, blanketing Gaius in his shadow, revealing himself for the powerful Jedi Master he was.

Gaius stared back, refusing to feel small in his presence. "I understand," he answered after a strained silence. "Those who fall find power and give in to it. Even when they believe they are serving others, or the Force, they truly desire to serve themselves. They seek to control the Force as they see fit, rather than the other way around. They turn on the Jedi, their Masters, because the Order teaches us to forgo this power. That is a threat to those who wish to wield it as a weapon."

Master Vrook took a step back, though made it clear he was not retreating. He maintained his forceful presence without looming of Gaius as he had before. "The Force flows through you like no student we have ever seen. But you are willful and headstrong. A dangerous combination. Those who were corrupted by the dark side before you did not begin their corruption in War, or on the Outer Rim, or in some ancient Sith Temple. Their falls began here, in their lessons, sitting side by side with their Masters and questioning whether or not the Jedi Order was holding them back. Apprentice Starr, will you be able to avoid such misjudgments?"

Gaius stood and responded abruptly. "Your criticism is noted, Master Vrook. But when I entered the Order, I-" He realized too late into his words that his offense at the accusations was the exact emotion which Vrook had faulted him for feeling. Stopping himself mid-sentence, and with a cautious breath, Gaius made sure his stance demonstrated that he was backing down. "I know that I am older than your other students, that I bring experiences from outside this Order that you had hoped would stay out. And I know that you are only training me because of my bond to Bastila. But believe me when I say that I listen. I have seen those who have fallen, both Dark Jedi and their soldiers, and I have no desire to be like them. I will not fall."

It was difficult to read Vrook's reaction. The old Master had a permanent scowl and his face was too wrinkled to tell which ones were not normally present. "I take no issue with your age, Apprentice Starr, believe me that. If I seem overly critical of you, perhaps it is because you do not fully comprehend what is at stake. For fifteen thousand years, the Republic has brought peace and stability to the galaxy. Now the Republic may be destroyed because we, the Jedi, have failed them. Revan and Malak were paragons of the ideals the Order seeks to uphold, yet they succumbed to the temptations of the dark side. When Revan fell, Malak took up his mantle. Should Malak be stopped, what is there to prevent another Jedi from taking his place? This is the burden we Masters must carry. Only through strict training and relentless lessons can we prevent the Dark Master from being reborn. That is why the Order can brook no failure in our apprentices and pupils. That is why I can accept nothing but perfection from you."

"Master Vrook speaks harshly, though his words are true," Master Dorak commented, still seated at the table's end. "The tale of Revan and those like him show us how even the greatest of Jedi can give in to the temptations of the dark side. You must always be on guard against the evil that dwells within you. So must we all."

"I pass these wisdoms to you now, because Master Zhar has decided that you are soon to achieve the rank of Padawan. He is most impressed with your progress, and Bastila has vouched for your affinity for the Force. Yet I cannot help but feel that you move forward too quickly."

The news took Gaius aback. He had never experienced a positive conversation with Master Vrook, and even now the good news was buried within warnings and criticism. Gaius quickly thanked the Masters for their lesson, stating that he would be sure to reflect on what they had discussed. He had known that his advancement was to be far more rapid than that of other Jedi, but he had never guessed Master Zhar was already prepared to advance him from an apprentice to a Padawan. This meant he would be assigned a Master for personal tutelage, his training would become more intense… and he would likely be returning to the War.

Frustrated by the manner in which the good news had been presented to him, and his lesson with Master Dorak being unexpectedly shortened, Gaius retreated to the training room. The automatic lights flickered to life as he entered the unadorned space. Several training sabers hung from small hooks on the far wall, a plasteel cylinder filled with training droids resting below them. The container was kept fully stocked, as the droids were apt to break during training sessions, particularly with newer students like himself.

Gaius unhooked the training saber with his favorite grip. The metal was refreshingly cool to the touch, fitting snuggling in his grasp. Training sabers' patterns, though each unique, were uniformly plain. Gaius had never been much of an artist, and appreciated the simple elegance of the saber's sleek design. His own lightsaber, when the time came to make one, would be similarly minimalist.

He reached into the plasteel bin for three of the training droids. Just yesterday, he had barely been capable of handling two at a time, but his success in the meditation chamber this morning had bolstered his confidence in his own abilities.

A quick flick of the small switch on each droid's underside was enough for them to whir alive. The three spheres hovered several feet in the air before adjusting their positions to form a triangle around Gaius. They rotated around him, silently communicating through radiowaves to calculate a coordinated attack. He held the yellow training saber behind him, defending against the droid to his back. The one he could not see, he would be the slowest to defend against.

Just as he began to ponder whether he had overestimated his own competence, the two droids in front fired. Gaius stepped to avoid the blast from the left and swung to deflect the bolt on his right. He spun, anticipating the third shot from behind.

The droid fired, as he expected, but so did one of the droids that was now positioned behind him. In planning his defense against the third droid, he'd placed the others to his back. Now, two droids sat in his blind spot, rather than just the one.

Heat stung the back of Gaius's hip, an electric shock causing his leg to jerk. A flick of his wrist deflected a repeat shot from the drone, splashing the blast into the other droid he'd allowed into the blind. Sparks flared as the small, metal ball sputtered and let out a high-pitched whir. It's low energy propulsions faltered, and it collapsed in a pile of scrap on the floor.

Gaius had never managed that before.

He swung the blade toward the remaining two droids. They fired below the beam, striking him on both sides of the stomach. Sharp shocks caused muscles in his legs to seize, and Gaius nearly lost his balance. His thrusts became wilder as he stumbled back several steps. The yellow blade did not even graze the droids as it haplessly sliced the air between them.

"Don't strike too soon. Be patient and keep your guard up," Bastila's voice appeared, instructing him from behind. Gaius did not turn to face her, instead reforming his stance and lowering his blade. Now he stood at the point of a triangle formed by him and the two remaining droids.

Gaius successfully blocked the next three shots before the droids paused, rotating around him. He shuffled his feet, trying to keep them both in view. They each fired in turn. For nearly a minute, a succession of shots from behind were followed by shots in front. The occasional blast would strike Gaius in the torso, sending a mild shock down his back and stiffening his muscles. Mostly, however, he managed to dodge or catch the blasts with the saber's blade.

Bastila continued to observe from her perch along the wall. "Anticipate their direction. Feel where the next shot will land, do not simply wait to react." Gaius grimaced.

"I know how to-" No sooner had he begun to respond when the two small droids fired simultaneous shots. Gaius could not block them both, so he sidestepped. They fired again, then again. Gaius maneuvered between them quickly, flailing his blade to absorb the blasts that nearly met their target. He escaped the barrage unscathed. Yet, just as a confident smile began to crack along his lips, the floor became uneven.

Where Gaius's foot had expected to find flat ground, it instead twisted on something solid protruding beneath him. The object slid below him, and friction carried his foot with it. Not prepared to put his weight on one leg, Gaius fell. His saber rolled along the floor, the yellow beam disappearing into its simple metal cylinder. Disheartened, Gaius sighed and leaned his head back, resting it on the hard ground. His arm ached slightly where he'd landed on top of it.

The loud hiss of his blade reactivating caused Gaius to jolt upward. Bastila stood over him, the training saber speeding towards her through the air. The yellow beam was active before the metal even arrived in her hand. Bastila's arm swept forward, the blade joining her midway through the motion, blocking a shot from the droid on their right. The deflected blaster fire flew towards its companion, which was also in the process of firing. In a single stroke, Bastila bounced the red blast towards the first droid.

The two small, round orbs fell nearly simultaneously to the ground in nearly simultaneous white blasts of metal, dust, and sparks. It was less a demonstration of where Gaius had erred and more a display of Bastila's own skill with a blade.

The Jedi stood silent with the training saber held out front. She wore the decorative brown and orange robes Gaius had seen her wearing when they first arrived on Dantooine, having changed out of her plainclothes from the morning's meditations.

It was the image of a warrior. Her stance, the weapon in her hand, the shattered enemies lying by her feet. In his time with Bastila, there had only been a handful of moments like this, when he didn't see her as someone younger, a less experienced soldier, but as the woman, the Jedi, who had slain the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Bastila paused to catch her breath, permitting the lightsaber to shrink back into its hilt. She turned and leaned forward, offering a hand to help Gaius stand. He felt the fool, having been tripped so easily by practice droids.

"The first lesson I was taught was to mind my surroundings," Bastila said. She spoke softly, muting her normally brusque, instructive tone. Gaius was thankful for her tact. "Though, I never was forced to learn that lesson in such a dramatic fashion." His gratitude disappeared as quickly as it was born. She could not resist reverting to her usual, critical manner.

Gaius grabbed hold of Bastila's hand and stood with her help, taking the training saber from her grip as he found his footing. Determinedly, he retrieved three more training droids from the cylindrical container by the wall. Activating them, Gaius began the second of more than a dozen training sessions he would run that evening. By the time he finished, the number of broken droids littering the floor had tripled. Despite more than one close call, Gaius did not lose his footing again. Bastila even complemented his ability to prevent the droids from maneuvering him into a disadvantageous position.

She aided Gaius in sweeping the debris from the floor before they sparred together.

Bastila was obviously more capable with a lightsaber in her hands, and it annoyed Gaius to realize she was holding back. When he commented on this, she cracked a smile, almost welcoming the opportunity to "teach."

Her form was beautiful. The yellow beam of her training saber danced around Gaius as Bastila flowed around him. She moved constantly, never stopping for an attack or parry. Slashes came from high and low, near and from the edges of the lightsaber's range.

It was all Gaius could do to keep pace with her. He spun, almost in place, as Bastila circled him. Their sabers flashed with blinding heat when the met, his defensive posture and her aggressive form making this a common occurrence.

Less than a minute into their spar, the first strike landed on Gaius's chest. A sharp sting from the muted blade previewed the flurry that followed. Once he failed to block one strike, he missed the next. Soon, he blocked just half Bastila's attacks, until she landed three in a row.

The Jedi ended her barrage, taking a step back. She held her lightsaber in a defenses stance. Without a word, she invited Gaius to attack.

He stepped cautiously, methodically probing her defenses with attacks from different angles. Gaius kept himself at a distance from Bastila, ready to dodge or defend against a counterattack. She backed off, baiting him to attack.

Foolishly, he tried. Slashing high and low, side to side, Gaius tried to mimic her own movements from before. This close to her, he could feel the Force more strongly through his motions. His feet moved almost unconsciously, carrying him in circles around her. Yet, he never managed to break her defense. Their blades clashed time and again. Gaius's strikes were fast enough that any onlooker would have been blinded by the repeated flashes of white light where his lightsaber's beam met Bastila's.

At last, he found a break in her defenses, slashing high, then reversing his angle while adjusting his arm movements. Bastila, however, anticipated the change. Gaius had left himself open to a counterattack, which she took full advantage of. Her lightsaber sliced at his side. Had it been a true weapon, it would have left him cloven cleanly in two.

Gaius backstepped, his hand gripping at the skin above his waistline, which still stung from the training saber's electric shock. His breathe was heavy from their spar, though he contemplated trying again.

"That is enough for today," the familiar voice of Master Zhar decreed from the far door to the room. His footsteps echoed through the room as he approached the two exhausted Jedi. Zhar folded his arms as he stopped, likely unamused that Gaius had chosen to spend the evening training with a blade rather than in further lessons. "I understand that Master Vrook has already revealed to you that the time for your advancement in rank will soon be upon us."

Gaius deactivated the training saber, allowing to slither back into its hilt. He bowed forward. "Thank you for this honor, Master, I promise that I will not disappoint you in this decision."

"I do not have reason to believe you will, Apprentice Starr." Admittedly, Zhar's use of his current title stung Gaius more sharply than Bastila's saber. "Before you can truly be presented with a formal rise in rank, however, there is a trial with which you must be faced." Zhar stepped between Gaius and Bastila, turning his back towards her and looking Gaius straight in the eyes. Separating him from his companion, the Jedi Master's squinted gaze informed him of all he needed to know about this challenge. "It is a trial you must face alone."


	22. Fields

**Chapter 21: Fields**

Mission had never eaten so much food in her entire life. Foreign fruits and vegetables, fambaa meatbread imported from some planet she'd never heard of, drinks brewed from the glands of Kashyyyk tach monkeys, and a dozen other dishes she couldn't even name. Zaalbar let out a low growl, a noise he made after overeating. Big Z had gorged himself on the feast. His appetite allowed Mission to indulge her own while appearing not to have more than her share, though the Wookiee's enthusiasm for the meal had raised the eyebrow of their host more than once.

Ahlan Matale was one of the wealthiest men on this sector of the planet. That wasn't too high a bar, considering Dantooine's population consisted mostly of farmers and blue-collar workers, but it was a point of obvious pride for him. He was practically poor compared to the upper crust of Taris, but would have at least been able to afford a modest home in the Upper City had he lived there before its destruction. Here, however, the Matale family was able to decorate their residence with full-grown trees, artwork, and had battledroids patrolling the hallways.

"I hope you enjoyed your meal," he said from the head of the table, a little more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Elise Montagne coughed beside Mission. "Very much so. Thank you for this generous invitation, Mr. Matale." Her eyes slanted down towards the young Twi'lek as she coughed again.

"Please, like I've told you before, you can call me Ahlan." Though not elderly, the man was old enough to be Elise's father. Despite this – and that his own son, Shen was closer in age to Elise than himself – there were unsubtle hints throughout the evening that the man had been trying to work his way closer to her since she had been widowed a little over a year ago. Supposedly, tonight's invitation was a 'welcome' of sorts for Mission and Zaalbar's stay on Dantooine, but that veil was thin at best.

Elise forced a third cough, before finally nudging Mission below the table with her elbow. "Thank you for having us tonight," the teen finally yelled across the long table, elbowing her foster parent back while doing so. Mission was glad she only had to put up with being treated like a kid until the Jedi found Griff. Then she could join him and get off this boring rock.

"«Everything was delicious,»" Zaalbar grumbled from Mission's other side. Sitting between Elise and the Wookiee's voracious appetite had not made this the most enjoyable of meals, despite the quality of the food. "«But please stop importing these tach ales. The tach are peaceful creatures who are important to life on Kashyyyk. There is no value in their death, and many must be killed for this drink to be brewed.»" From Big Z's body language, Mission had known the he had taken issue with the drink being served from the moment it was brought to the table, he'd just decided to voice his opinion after finishing his food.

All eyes turned to Mission once Zaalbar finished speaking. "He says 'thank you,' and that he really enjoyed the meal," she interpreted. It was a constant source of annoyance for the big guy that she was the only person who understood him.

None of the others at the table took issue with Mission's translation, though Z grumbled several expletives to himself. Luckily, the Shryiiwook curses were unrecognizable to the Basic speakers around them.

"I'm glad everyone enjoyed themselves," Mr. Matale smiled, pushing his plate towards the center of the table. "Shen," he turned to the boy sitting across from Mission, "would you instruct the droids to bring out our dessert and some caf for Ms. Elise." Mission wasn't certain how they planned on eating dessert after having just finished such a large dinner.

"Yes, father." Shen had been relatively quiet throughout the meal. A few years older than Mission, his only conversation this evening had been responding to his parent's orders. "I could also get them myself. It's no trouble, really."

Shen stood from his chair before Ahlan could instruct him otherwise. The whirring of C8-42's gears indicated the personal assistance droid seated next to Shen also planned to aid in carrying the desserts.

"You can remain here, cee-eight," Elise said through a smile. Though not phrased as such, it was clearly an order for the assistance droid to obey. Mission's foster mother was the only person she had ever seen seat a droid at the table for meals. Even droids with personalities didn't really belong there. It wasn't like they could eat.

"Yes, Mistress Elise," the metallic voice of C8-42 responded before he reseated himself across from her.

Ahlan Matale cleared his through somewhat uncomfortably. His continuing attempts at making advances toward the woman prevented him from calling out her unusual etiquette with regards to the droid. Thus, the room remained silent save for Shen's footsteps and the automatic doors sliding open for him. Zaalbar's stomach grumbled.

"So, Mission," Mr. Matale started, cutting the tension, "how do you find Dantooine suiting you?" It was the first time tonight he had addressed her directly.

"Oh, well… it's nice enough. Not a whole lot going on, you know, but I guess that's kind of why people like it." It was the best Mission could lie without laughing.

Ahlan Matale smiled warmly. "It certainly is peaceful in our little corner of the galaxy. You should have seen it before the war, when all these Republic ships arrived to protect the Jedi temple. You didn't have to try and tell the difference between a star in the sky and the engines of a Republic gunship back then."

"It was even better before the Mandalorian Wars ended," Elise added, "when those Mandalorian veterans settled here and decided to start raiding farms when they couldn't find work."

Ahlan nodded in agreement. Mission rolled her eyes. Most everyone she met on Dantooine loved talking about how peaceful life was and how the wars were the worst thing to happen in their little corner of the galaxy. They just didn't realize how boring their lives all were.

"Oh, I'm sure that it was-" a loud crash from the other room mercifully interrupted Mission's forced reply.

"What the devil was that?" Ahlan exclaimed, standing from his seat. "Shen!" he yelled towards the door. There was no reply.

Cee-eight once again stood from his place at the table. "I shall investigate," the droid stated in its monotone voice while shuffling away as fast as its rigid legs could carry.

Ahlan Matale cleared his throat once more before returning to his seat. Several minutes of the host sounding like he was about to begin a conversation, yet never actually saying anything, passed. Mission's irritation with being trapped at the table, in this stranger's home, and having to behave in accordance with Elise's rules continued to grow as they waited in silence. If the frustration continued much longer, she wasn't sure whether she would scream out of exasperation or take off towards the door without looking back until she was on Coruscant. Thankfully, Shen returned with both C8-42 and the desserts before either event occurred. "I'm sorry for the scare, there were just a few too many plates," Shen said, placing a sampling of various cakes in front of each table placement. C8-42 handed Elise a cup of hot caf, as well.

"You should have had the droids carry it in," Ahlan chastised, "like I told you."

"You're right father, I will listen next time."

Were it not for her ability to distract herself with the desserts, Mission might not have survived the remainder of the meal. She wasn't even hungry after their large supper, but having to continue making small talk with Ahlan, Shen, and Elise was a worse torture than anything the Vulkars could have put her through. The only sounds she made the rest of the night were the scrapes of metal on glass from her fork digging into the last bis of cake on her plate.

Towards the night's end, she led the foursome back to Elise's speeder, neglecting to thank the Matales for hosting the meal. It's not like Ahlan cared about her anyway. She was just an excuse for him to invite an eligible, if disinterested, widow to his oversized home.

They made their way into the crowded speeder and towards home. A Twi'lek, a Wookiee, a droid, and a human. Mission was pretty sure their was a joke or two which started with that description.

"You should have spoken more, Mission," Elise said as they entered her quiet farmland home. "And thanked him when we left. Mr. Matale was kind enough to let us into his home and-"

"You don't need to tell me what to do." Mission's voice wasn't angry, it was matter-of-fact. She'd put up with Elise's instructions through dinner, but was sick of hearing about it in the home.

"Mission Vao." Elise mispronounced her last name, something she'd started several weeks ago when they moved in, but Mission had never bothered to correct. "So long as you live in my house, I do need to tell you how to behave. I don't ask for much, and I won't see you living like some street urchin, but you must act civilized, Mission. Dantooine can be a very lovely place if you let it." Mission could feel her blood boil whenever Elise used the term 'street urchin' to describe her life on Taris. She'd used it more than once before.

Zaalbar stood behind Mission and let out a low whine. Had he been human, it would have been a sigh. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "«It's late, Mission. Now is not a good time for a fight. It's not home, but this is our house for now.»"

Mission shook her head. "I know, Big Z. It's just…" It was hard to direct her anger at the Wookiee. He was just too much of a softy. "You're right."

Elise couldn't understand Zaalbar, but she could take a hint that he'd calmed the teenager down. "You two can sleep in tomorrow. I'll be working in the garden all morning, so you can help once you're up."

Mission didn't respond. She gave Big Z a hug and walked towards her room at the back of the one-story home. Zaalbar made his way outside. Elise didn't feel comfortable with Mission and Big Z sharing a room together, so she'd opened up the guest house across the yard for him. It was a plain, single-room building, but more than lavish for Zaalbar. In Mission's experience, Wookiees didn't care much where they slept.

C8-42 escorted Mission to her room, opening the door for her. The assistance droid was handy around the house, and never questioned what he was asked to do. Elise regularly mentioned that her late husband built him as a project shortly before he'd passed away. A few of Jon's assorted tinkerings that never had the luck of being completed adorned the walls of Elise's home as tributes to her late husband. From what Mission could tell, he hadn't been very good at it, but Elise was proud of her husband's engineering.

"Have a good night, Mistress Vao," C8 said as she entered the bedroom.

"Thanks, Cee." The droid bowed stiffly. He was a relatively cheap model, and probably wouldn't last half as long as Elise hoped he would.

C8-42 trotted down the hall to Elise's bedroom, where he spent his nights. Mission had decided not to question the special treatment the droid got from her. The woman was weird enough when it came to the droid during the day, she didn't even want to know what she was like at night.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Mission changed into sleepwear. Elise had loaned her some of her own old clothes, which fit poorly and were separating at the seams. They weren't much worse than Mission's old clothes, but at least those had been _hers_.

She laid awake for a long time before starting to fall asleep. Occasionally, she sat upwards, hugging her knees and staring out the large window over the side of her bed. She followed the Republic ships going through their movements in the sky, envying those aboard. The silence of this world was unsettling. Occasionally a bug would make some noise, or a distant kath hound would howl at the moon, but the planet was otherwise silent, save for the wind.

Mission hated Dantooine. Taris had its own noises, its own smells. There was just a feel to living in a city thousands of feet above the planet's surface that Mission loved. Dantooine was nothing but fields. Grass, grass, grass, and more grass. Mission could sense the water starting to form in her eyes, which she brushed away with one arm while hitting the side of her bed with the other, channeling her sadness into anger. She had too leave as soon as possible.

Maybe Griff was on Nar Shaddaa, or Coruscant, or some other place like Taris where she'd be able to fit in. The Jedi had better find him soon, or she'd just have to take matters into her own hands.

Several hours passed before sleep finally overtook Mission. She slept lightly, as usual, barely deep enough to dream about leaving this place behind.

Elise's screaming woke her early the following morning. So much for sleeping in.

The woman's cries were loud enough that Zaalbar arrived in the kitchen near the house's front entrance only moments after Mission.

"«What is wrong?»" the Wookiee yelled over her sobbing, failing to elicit any response from the woman who could not understand him. A yelling Wookiee probably did little to help her current mental state.

"What happened?" Mission echoed Big Z's words in Basic.

Elise was sitting her knees in the middle of the kitchen floor, tears streaming all the way down onto her shirt. She could barely speak through her sobs. "He's gone…" she started, before covering her face with both arms to hide another moan.

Several slow minutes went by before she could speak comprehensible words again. Zaalbar gripped her in a bear hug to try and calm her down. It wasn't readily apparent to Mission whether this helped or made things worse. She'd never seen Elise so distraught, though she'd only known the foster parent for a few weeks. Mission just stood awkwardly over her and Zaalbar, hoping she'd pull herself together.

At last, Elise calmed down enough to explained what had happened. "Cee-eight. He's not here. I've looked everywhere for him. He's not in the house or out on the farm. He's just gone, and I don't know where he could be." This was all she managed to get out before breaking down into tears again.

Mission was at a loss. The woman was always touchy about C8, but this was something else entirely. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere, Elise," Mission tried to assure her foster mother.

"«We will search for him.»" Zaalbar volunteered.

Mission shook her head while Elise's eyes were closed. "We'll need another droid that can scan for him if he's not on the farm."

"Do you know where we could find one?" Elise's eyes opened wide, and she pushed out of Zaalbar's grasp towards Mission. "No one around here keeps many astromechs."

Zaalbar's eyes gazed over towards Mission. "Yeah," she sighed, "we know one who can come along if we ask."

Elise let out another sob as she leaned forward towards her ward. "Thank you, thank you," she repeated between exasperated gasps and loud sniffs.

"Yeah…" Mission pushed Elise away as the woman tried to hug her with wet eyes and a running nose. "We'll just need to borrow the speeder for a bit."

Zaalbar complained the entire trip that he should have driven. Every time Mission took a turn too sharply or gunned the engines, he whined.

"Stop being such a baby," she chided.

"«Elise lent us her speeder, please do not crash it before we return.»" Zaalbar never was one for drag racing, even when he was associating with a swoop gang on Taris. Mission had been able to steal a swoop or two for street races when she was younger. Griff had taught her how before he left.

"We're doing her a favor, the least we can do is have some fun while we're at it," Mission said over the pulsing engines. She pushed the little speeder to its limits over a long stretch of field leading to the Jedi Enclave. A herd of Iriaz galloped along to their left. Zaalbar begged Mission to watch out for them.

To his relief, the enclave was not far off, and Mission slowed as they approached. The typical small crowd of people wandered around the structure's courtyard. They were either waiting for an audience with the Jedi Council or admiring the tended grounds on a warm day. Still, others were looking to sell something, like the Rodian weapons dealer who walked up Mission and Zaalbar as they were about to enter the enclave entrance.

Though Big Z hesitated when the dealer displayed a new bowcaster, Mission waved the Rodian off and pulled the big guy inside.

Mission could remember her way around from her limited time here a few weeks ago. Life in the Lower City made it necessary to learn and navigate new places quickly. The Twi'lek and the Wookiee received a few odd looks from the Jedi Knights wandering around the upper levels of the enclave, but they passed through unharassed. Look like you belong where you are, and no one will say you don't. One of Mission's favorite lessons.

The _Ebon Hawk_ was still parked in one of the enclave's only landing pads. She figured that they still didn't know what to do with the smuggling ship they'd taken off Taris. Davik was probably locked in some force cage, and it wasn't like the Republic would have any use for crime lord's freighter.

Luckily, the loading ramp was still down, so the pair were able to easily slip aboard. Only a few lights were on inside the ship, likely to save on power.

"Teethree," Mission called out, loud enough to be heard throughout the ship, but soft enough not to draw unneeded attention. "Teethree!" she repeated, a little louder this time. She and Zaalbar made their way into the _Hawk's_ main hold.

Zaalbar called out as well, a quite Wookiee whine into the dark, empty halls of the _Ebon Hawk_.

"Mission?" Carth's voice was welcome, warm, surprising, and disapproving all at the same time. "What are you doing here?" T3-M4 beeped pleasantly alongside him.

"Carth!" Mission found herself exclaiming in excitement, grabbing him for a close hug. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed having the Republic soldier around, even if he was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud.

Carth hugged back, before asking his question again. "What are you doing here, Mission?"

Mission shrugged. "We were hoping to borrow Teethree for a little bit. We just need him for some help on Elise's farm."

Carth shook his head. "Well, it seems like you're settling in here, at least. I was a bit worried about whether or not you would."

"I'm tough, Carth, you know there's not much that I can't handle." It's not like Carth could whisk Mission off Dantooine right now, even if she told him how much she hated her current living situation. Besides, she could take care of herself. "And Big Z's liking the food here, too."

"«I like that we don't have to worry about food here,»" Zaalbar corrected. Not that he'd ever complained about the food Elise kept around the house. She'd had to double her food stores for the Wookiee.

Carth laughed. "I'm sure Ms. Montagne has better food than what they serve here at the enclave." He'd visited her house shortly after Mission and Zaalbar had moved in, but that was the only time Carth had been over.

T3 chirped beside him. "Yeah, Teethree," Mission replied, "we were looking for you."

"«We need help finding another droid.»" Zaalbar explained. "«It went missing this morning, and we told Mrs. Elise you could help us find it.»" Big Z stooped to one knee and patted the diminutive droid on its cylindrical head.

The astromech responded through its series of beeps and whirs. "We don't have a specific signature for it," Mission continued Big Z's description, "but it's one of those cheap do-it-yourself Czerka assistance droids. Shouldn't be too hard to pick out from a bunch of farms."

"Hold on," Carth stepped closer to the group. T3-M4 had slowly made its way closer to Mission and Zaalbar, and further away Republic Captain. "Teethree is Republic property. You can't just take him for your own use."

T3 let out several angry chirps, clearly unhappy with Carth's characterization of his status as 'Republic property,' even if it was true. He had helped them escape for Taris, after all.

Mission pouted out her lip. "C'mon, Carth! We won't need him for long. And it's not like he's doing anything useful here." She didn't really care about finding C8, but she'd been so bored on that farm, it was great to just have something to do for once.

Carth sighed. "Alright, but have him back as soon as you've found what you need to find." T3 whirred with excitement. "And you be careful not to break anything," he directed at the small droid, "You're the only one with full schematics of this ship."

Mission fist pumped. "Okay, little guy, we've got a speeder outside waiting."

Zaalbar led the way to the loading ramp and out into the warm Dantooine afternoon. T3 followed close on his heels while Mission hung back for a moment to let her eyes readjust to the sunlight. Carth placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment as they stood at the end of the ship's ramp.

"Be careful, Mission," he told her as she finally took off. His tone was more caring than critical.

"It's me, Carth," the young Twi'lek called back, rushing to catch her friends.

There was a pause before Carth yelled after her. "That's what I'm worried about."

Mission laughed her way out of the Jedi Enclave.


End file.
